Twist and Shout
by Mynuet
Summary: A series of ficlets of missing scenes from the movie from different points of view. Mostly focused on the relationship between Link and Tracy, also featuring Corny and Maybelle, with a dash of Penny and Seaweed.
1. Tex Avery's Wolf

Just at the outset, I'd like to say that sometimes I'll be taking slight liberties with the timeline, since the movie does so, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum. And the pairings of Link with Tracy, Seaweed and Penny, Wilbur and Edna, and Corny and Maybelle are sacred; in the end, they will end up together and happy. Sorry if I spoiled the suspense, but I like to be warned about that sort of thing, so I figured I'd show the same consideration.

All right, on with the stories:

* * *

Link had just been walking with Brad to English, answering questions so Brad wouldn't look completely stupid in class – got to keep up the Council's image! - when he heard music. He'd looked around, then looked again when he caught a flash of motion. "Hold on."

Practically putting his nose against the glass, he peered through to keep looking at the girl – no, woman, or possibly force of nature. Brad sounded annoyed when he said, "Come on," but Link just gestured. There was no way to explain this without letting Brad see for himself.

She was swinging her arms up in the air, showing the occasional flash of her slip when her blouse lifted far enough, and making her breasts stick out so that it looked like they were being offered up for a lucky someone's touch. Then she turned slightly and started rolling her hips and he thought his eyes would fall out of his head or his tongue would unroll to the floor, like the wolf in those old Tex Avery cartoons.

Now she moved slightly and he could see there was a black boy dancing with her and saying something, but he couldn't hear it because of the music and the door in the way. He opened the door quietly, his gaze riveted to her round ass, so clearly outlined by just her skirt, trying to think of what to say. And then it filtered through what she was saying and she smacked herself and he thought, "No, let me. I'd be good with bad girls, I just know it."

She stopped moving to turn around and he managed to drag his eyes up to her face, with a few stops on the way and one backtracking to take in the majestic scenery while he licked his lips and tried to think of something that would keep him from getting a boner. "Hey."

The look on her face, of sheer terror and a bit of disgust, helped calm him down sufficiently that his usually agile mind could come up with something to say as he walked to place himself between her and the other boy. "You know, Corny's hosting the hop tomorrow."

The girl stepped away and folded her hands, looking at him with big melting eyes and he didn't even care that she still looked scared, that look was another one being saved for review when he had some time and privacy. He flicked his eyes over to distract himself, and to check whether the boy she'd been dancing with was showing any signs of jealousy. All clear – the boy was practically giggling into his hand.

"If he saw you dancing like that, he'd put you on the show." In a heartbeat – and then Link would see her every day, probably for most of the day, given the Council's class schedule, and she'd spend part of every day wiggling around like that where he could see.

She nodded and he licked his lips again, but the bell rang and he just said, "See ya." He moved left and she moved right, but they managed to bump into each other, mostly the arms, but he was pretty sure one of her breasts had rubbed against his side.

The apology came automatically, but he blamed the breast for following it up with, "Hope I didn't dent your do."

What the hell? He needed to get out of there before he said something even stupider, so he nodded and backed away a step before turning to walk away.

"Hey, man, what was that all about?" They'd barely cleared the door before Brad started in. "I mean, she can move, but how would she look on camera?"

Link shrugged, trying to look cool and nonchalant as they strolled down the hallway. "I guess Corny will figure it out, if he likes what he sees at the hop."

The pose must've worked, because Brad just started in about _Julius Caesar_ again before bumping into Shelley. He apologized, but as she walked on Brad grinned. "Man, I am so gone on her. You sure you're not interested in the way she keeps sniffing around you?"

Laughing, he said, "Go for it, she's all yours. Shelley just wants my scalp to hang on her wall as a trophy of something she took away from Amber."

Someone called out from by their locker and he apparently held a rational conversation, but his mind was fully equipped with rerunning the visual of the girl's dancing and trying to cover for any effects of those thoughts. He couldn't wait to see her at the hop.


	2. Skinny White Boy

"May I help you?" Skinny white boys were rare in this neighborhood, and ones that smiled like this one were unheard of. Maybelle had to admit to being downright curious about what he could want in her record store.

"Yes, ma'am, please." He looked a bit more serious and she added a good ten years to her mental estimate of his age. He was still skinny, though. "There's a song I heard on the radio and I can't find it anywhere."

He smiled again and she couldn't help smiling back – the man looked like a toothpaste commercial, but it was kinda cute on him. "And what did it sound like?"

Keeping a straight face was impossible as he sang with verve about finding a boy who was so fine. She managed to keep from laughing out loud, which was an accomplishment, and cleared her throat. "That's by a couple of my girls – they go by the Dynamites. But you can't play it on your show, Mr. Collins."

"Recognized me, huh?" he said, a bit sheepishly.

Nodding, and smiling just a bit – he really was cute as a button – she told him, "It just took me a minute since you weren't in black and white."

"So why can't I play the record? They're pretty good, they could be the next big thing."

He was practically shining with sincerity and she shook her head. "In case your surroundings didn't give you the idea, the girls are black. Your audience wouldn't let you show them, let alone your sponsors."

With a shift in his smile, he looked different. No longer clean-cut and whitebread, he now looked like a rascal, someone dangerous that you wouldn't take home to mama. "Ma'am, I'll tell you a secret, but you gotta lean real close so I can whisper in your ear."

"Don't you be trying to tease Miss Maybelle, honey. It'd take a lot more than a tv show man to turn _my_ head." Only the reminder that she didn't know this man or how he would react kept her from smacking him upside the head just as she would any friend that she was joking around with.

He leaned in anyway and her high heels made them just about equal in height. Stopping just about an inch away from her ear he whispered, "Integration is coming. Don't tell anyone, or they'll think I can tell the future."

This time she did smack him, but he only laughed. "I don't care what color they are, they've got a great sound. So do I get the record?"

She moved past him to get one of the copies she'd had pressed of the single the girls had written. "That'll be ten dollars."

Whistling, he said, "That's one expensive 45, Miss Maybelle."

"Oh, you ain't paying for the record." This time it was her turn to smile dangerously. "You're paying for my disappointment if I don't hear the song on your show. If you play it, you can come get your money back."

"You know, normally pay for play works the other way around." The thousand watt grin made it clear he was just joking. She thought that kidding around with a random white man was probably the strangest thing she'd ever done, and the thought made her silent. His smile diminished and he said, "I'll be playing it today for sure, if you care to tune in WYZT between four and five. And then I'll be back for my money."

"You do that. It'll be right here waiting for you." The bill he handed her got tucked into her bra absent-mindedly, and then her face heated up as she realized what she'd done and said.

He didn't mention it, just said, "Thank you for the record, Miss Maybelle, and I'll see you tomorrow."


	3. Bells

"I think I'm in _love_!"

The pronouncement was met with hoots and catcalls from the Council members already occupying the men's room, but IQ was undaunted. "You should've seen it. This girl was just going down the hallway talking to her friend, and then she slammed me against the lockers. I think she would've kissed me if her friend hadn't dragged her off."

Brad snorted. "Sure she would've. Maybe she just didn't like your face."

"What's there to like?" Sketch looked away from the mirror and smirked. "Unless she's into eggheads." 

"Shut up." IQ was visibly upset, his hands curling into fists. Since he didn't usually mind the teasing he got, Link thought it was time to step in.

Not taking his eyes away from where he was trying to arrange the curl coming out of his pompadour, he said, "So what's this dream girl of yours look like? Do we know her?"

IQ leaned against the stalls and sighed. "She's really short, but she's got great hair – totally stylish. She was wearing a straight skirt, without all the petticoats, so I ended up really close to her, and she's got this stare – like she could see right through me."

"I don't know if I'd want a girl looking past me," Link said, ignoring the sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach at the description IQ was giving. It sounded much too familiar.

Sketch laughed. "That's because you're in love with yourself."

"And Amber," added Brad, causing a shared laugh between the four boys. "I hear you gave her your class ring as a symbol of true love!"

"Yeah, true love for getting all the screen time." Sketch's punch to Link's arm wasn't quite light enough to be considered playful. "But I want to hear what IQ's girl looks like. Does she have a face like a pig? Because I can't see a girl who isn't plug ugly being desperate enough to kiss you."

Hotly, IQ retorted, "She was very pretty! Big brown eyes, a smile that could light up the whole city, and..." Here his cheeks flushed just slightly. "Really big knockers."

"Now there's a man with his priorities in order. You gotta show her to me next time you see her in the hall." Brad grinned. "Hey, if she's desperate enough to push you up against the lockers, maybe she'd like to take a real man for a spin."

Link's sinking feeling hadn't gone away, but he couldn't think of a way to ask for more detail without having Brad start blabbing about the girl they'd seen and Link's reaction to her. The first bell rang and IQ left, having a longer distance to travel to get to his advanced classes. The others turned to the mirrors to give their hair one more going over.

Brad finished first and tossed his comb in the air before pocketing it and telling Sketch, "What do you think, was that girl really interested in IQ?"

"Not a chance." Sketch laughed. "If she was real, she was probably just trying to get him out of the way."

Link didn't say anything, just licked his palm to smooth down one last stubborn hair. He thought he saw the girl from detention in the window for a second, but since she appeared and disappeared so fast he dismissed it as a hallucination. What kind of girl looked in the window of the men's room?

Maybe one that slammed boys into lockers. Could she really have that big a crush on IQ? As he went off to class, Link thought that maybe he should study a bit harder. Just to make his dad happy, of course.


	4. A Perfect Lady

I feel like I should apologize for this, but I'm going through the movie trying to show what we don't see, but also stick with the canon. So, Amber/Link - but don't worry! It's not permanent!

Also, if anyone's confused or wants to discuss motivations or whatever, feel free to wander over to my livejournal - I'm Mynuet there, too - and comment on any random post.

* * *

"Hey, baby!" Amber made sure not to smile as broadly as she wanted to, because too much smiling made wrinkles appear at a young age. "Your hair looks great." 

"Oh. Thanks, Amber." He seemed to be looking around for somebody, so she came to stand just in front of him so he'd pay attention to her, but made sure to keep her books between them so that he wouldn't think she was acting like a fast girl.

She couldn't think of anything more interesting to talk about, so she just started babbling about the day. "Can you believe Mr. Flak? Like anybody cares about the Pilgrims! I mean, they didn't even wear anything except grey, how boring is that? Threatening to send you for detention for being distracted was just rude. Maybe you should have my mom talk to him."

"What?" He put his hands on her waist and pulled her forward. "Yeah, class was great."

Although she liked being held, it wasn't ladylike without being on a dance floor, and at a proper distance. She pushed his hand off and stepped back. "Link!"

He was already looking back at something else, and she grabbed his neck to turn his attention back to her. "What's got you so..." She waved her hand, trying to figure out what to say. The best she could come up with was, "Distracted?"

"Nothing." He leaned forward, and she smiled and put her hand up so that she could touch his face as they kissed. It sent tingles through her, just like it always did, but she made sure that it didn't last more than three seconds; her mother had warned her about acting whorish when Link had given her his class ring, and she didn't want to make Link disgusted with her. Boys might _date_ bad girls but they only married good ones, and she wanted to be with Link forever.

He'd already gotten the wrong idea, because he was smiling and trying to pull her back towards him. She slapped at his arm harder and scowled as best she could without getting wrinkled. "Link! Don't paw me, I'm not that kind of girl!"

Sometimes she wished she could be, but Mother would be so ashamed of having raised a dirty girl that Amber would never dare try. Even when Mother wasn't around, she had a way of finding out about the naughty thoughts and wishes that Amber had, and then explaining to her why they were wrong so that Amber wanted to cry over having been so bad.

As she sat down on the bus, Amber was scrupulously careful to make sure Link sat at least three inches away. She tried to hold his hand under the cover of her skirt, but he was staring out the window and not paying any attention to her. Mother said it was a sign of his respect for her when he did that, and that the times Amber wished the most that he didn't respect her so much were the times she was most in danger of shaming herself and losing him.

Amber sighed and stared out the window on the other side, telling herself that she was blissful in her perfect relationship with Link.


	5. At the Hop

IQ had been late to each and every class the next day, because he'd spent too much time loitering in the hallway in the hope that he'd see her again and maybe even get to talk to her this time. The other guys were laughing themselves sick, but he didn't care – he was just too far gone. Link was the only one that didn't do much ragging on him, but Link never got into teasing people anyway. He'd always been so focused on trying to become the next Elvis Presley or Ricky Nelson that he hadn't had time for anything else, including being nasty. Or nice, for that matter, but IQ counted inaction as a good thing in this case.

They taped the last segment and IQ drifted over towards Link, not sure he could take another bus ride sitting next to Sketch and Brad. He got close just in time to hear Link asking Corny whether a new Council girl had been chosen yet, and Corny's answer in the negative. Then Link surprised both of his listeners by saying, "There's this girl that's coming to the hop tonight you should pay attention to. She doesn't look like the other girls, but there's lots of girls in the audience that aren't skinny and blonde - and this girl moves like her skirt's on fire and her spine's made of greased ball bearings."

Corny smiled. "Sounds like she's really something if she's got you talking like that. Point her out and I'll see what she can do."

"Can you not tell Mrs. Von Tussle I told you about her?" As an afterthought, Link added, "Or Amber?"

"I wouldn't do that you, Link. Among other things, you'd have to fake your own death to get away before they killed you, and where would I be without my lead dancer?" Corny tossed an arm around Link's neck and ground a knuckle into Link's coif. After a brief struggle, Corny let go. "Better go fix your hair. You have to look good tonight on stage."

IQ decided it was time to call attention to himself, since it wouldn't be obvious he'd overheard. "Hey, Link – can you give me a ride to the hop later?"

"Sure, but I've got to be there early. I've just got enough time to get home and--" Link looked at his watch and swore. "Come on, the bus is probably waiting for us."

His plan to avoid having to put up with Sketch and Brad was thwarted as the only seat available was just behind them. As soon as he was in it, they were leaning over the back and asking whether he'd seen 'his girl', and they didn't stop until the Council bus had dropped them off. Link didn't even make a peep all the way home to distract them, and then he had them get to the gym an hour early so as to help set up the stage.

People trickled in and Corny arrived to get the music going. All of the Council were on the dance floor except for Link, who was singing, and IQ was even enjoying himself while he danced and kept a vigilant eye on the door.

He ended up spotting her only when he followed the direction of Link's gaze and where his arm was pointing. The crowd had obscured her from view, but then she moved out to stand just by the rope separating the Negro section from the regular one. He was almost directly behind her, but paused when he realized it would be rude to desert his partner. Poor Brenda had enough people being rude to her without him adding to her troubles.

Then the girl stepped out while everyone was promenading, with her hands up and a strut in her step. The pattern of the dance was disrupted, but IQ was too busy watching her move to give it a thought. "His" girl had to be the same one Link had told Corny about, but if anything Link hadn't said enough about her dancing. She was shaking her hips and her bosom to the music and he started clapping along despite having heard the song a million times while Link rehearsed, because she made it interesting again. She blew a kiss to Link – but maybe it was just for show, and IQ wasn't going to give up without trying.

Apparently he wasn't the only one to think that, because it seemed like all the boys in the room mobbed the dance floor at the same time, trying to follow her movements and get close to her at the same time. She was one hell of a dancer, and he was determined that he'd trample everyone else after the song if need be in order to get to her first and ask for the next dance.

The person who got trampled was Amber, though. Just after Link finished singing, someone knocked into her with their elbow and she fell onto the floor, where another person stepped on her skirt. She looked so upset that IQ mentally sighed and went to help her. She might not always be the nicest person, but she was still a lady and there were certain points of etiquette that had to be followed.

"Get me to Link," she said as soon as he'd helped her to stand, only to discover that she'd twisted her ankle. They'd gone three steps before she added a whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He wouldn't desert her, but she was moving agonizingly slowly, and the girl was already standing with her friend in the middle of a circle of boys closing in. "How about you lean on me a bit more? Or I could carry you, if your ankle's hurting too much to put any weight on it."

She held herself up stiffly and spat out, "I'm fine!" But within seconds, she'd whimpered a little and trusted most of her weight to him. Not that it was much weight, since Amber was skinny as a stick, but he had it to bear for another yard until he could leave her with her date and try to catch at least one dance with his mystery girl.

"Who was that girl, anyway?" He thought it was strange for a moment that his thoughts sounded like Amber's voice, but caught on to the fact that she'd spoken and shrugged. Amber frowned and kept talking. "I mean, she's so pudgy, but she was out there moving around like the dirtiest of girls, like someone would want to see that."

"I would," IQ said firmly. "I did. I like her."

For the first time ever, IQ was on the receiving end of Amber's best smile, and he had to blink not to be blinded. "You do? That's so sweet! Are you going steady?"

"I don't even know her name yet, so I think that's a bit early to give her my class ring." Although if she shook her bosoms in his vicinity again, he might just skip the normal order of things and ask her to be his girl. Or fall down in worship like some sort of heathen. One or the other.

"I'll find out for you. You should ask her out for ice cream, she'd probably love that." He wasn't sure whether that was intended to be mean or not, so he didn't answer, just visually measured the distance between them and Link and cursed the other boy for moving. Thank goodness he'd been mobbed as soon as he stepped off the stage or he'd have disappeared, IQ thought resentfully. _Even if they're just going steady for show, he should take care of his girl and not leave her for some other poor sap to handle!_

Amber tried calling for Link, but either he didn't hear her or he ignored her. As IQ dragged her another step, she sighed and said, "I didn't know you're a chubby chaser."

"I'm not, really, I just like _her._" He shrugged. "She's so... Confident, I guess. Like she's not scared of anything, just reaches out and grabs what she wants."

That made Amber look thoughtful, and she stayed quiet until he finally, at last, got her to Link's side. Abandoning them with a little too much speed to be strictly polite, he practically sprinted to where the girl and her friend were making their way to the door. "Hey!"

Her eyes turned towards him and he found all he could force out was, "That was a great dance."

"Thanks." She smiled and that was it, because her friend was pulling her along like the gym was about to burst into flames and they had to get out before it did. He tried following again, but Brenda caught his arm and asked him to dance, and by the time he looked up again, his mystery girl was gone.

Corny came in from outside, out of breath and with his jacket slightly askew. "IQ! Tell me you got her name, since you were the last person to talk to her. Please tell me our new Council member didn't just get on a bus and leave without anyone knowing who she is. I'm begging you."

"Doesn't Link—"

"You're replacing me with _her_?" Brenda's shriek was piercing and right next to IQ's ear. "How could you? How _could_ you?"

Corny looked grim as he turned and walked away, out into the night and away from people who might listen in and get a bad opinion of Corny Collins or The Corny Collins Show. Brenda followed, screeching the whole time, and IQ trying to calm her down. Finally Corny turned and said, "Aren't you done yet?"

"No!" She was sobbing now, clutching her stomach and not making any attempt to stop the tears pouring down her cheeks. "You're... You're..."

"I'm filling a vacancy left by someone too stupid to keep herself from getting in trouble," Corny said sternly. "I know that Miss Maybelle takes all the girls aside once or twice a year to explain things, but you didn't want to listen to her, so now you're paying the price."

"But I could stay! I can still dance, and just wear bigger clothes--" IQ wished he was anywhere else in the world right now, because it was too embarrassing for words to listen to Brenda's pleading when even she knew it was useless.

"Even if I was willing to let that happen – and I'm not – the sponsors would pull out, and I'm not losing everything I worked for because of your immorality." Corny stared down at Brenda and shook his head. "Go home, Brenda. Get ready to be a mother. That's what you are now, not a dancer."

He turned around and walked away, leaving Brenda to sink to the ground and sob brokenly. IQ tried awkwardly to pat her shoulder and she leapt to her feet and snarled, "I suppose you think this is funny."

"No," he sighed. "Brenda, this is about the least funny thing I've ever seen."

"Don't you dare feel sorry for me. Don't you dare!" But he did, and she swiped a hand across her eyes before standing up straight and walking away.

Not knowing what to think of it all, except that his mystery girl had definitely left, IQ sighed and started walking towards the bus stop. Link had offered him a ride home, but he'd have his hands full with Amber, and IQ honestly thought he'd have to join a monastery if he saw another over-emotional girl tonight.


	6. Makeover

"Come on, we've got to get back or my mom will call and find out we're not at your house!"

Tracy allowed herself to be tugged along but her eyes never left Link, who looked a lot less energetic and happy now that he was off the stage and being held in a vice grip by Amber. A lot of the boys and a few of the girls said things to her about her dancing – mostly good things – and the good manners her mother had insisted on had her automatically saying thank you.

They left the school building and, as they were walking to the bus stop, Tracy finally sighed. "It was a lot of fun, but he didn't notice me."

Penny snatched her lollipop out of her mouth. "No, he was staring at you the whole time!"

"Link had to do that, he was on stage." She shook her head. "But anyway, I meant Corny Collins. I'll never get on the show."

"Oh. But he seemed to like you, too."

The two girls climbed on to the bus and it rumbled away. "You said that at the station, too, Penny. But Miss Baltimore Crabs was right - I don't look like anyone else from the show. I wouldn't fit in."

The lollipop twirled in Penny's mouth as she thought hard about that. "Well, what if you got some crinolines? It's too bad you're not a blonde, they have a lot of those."

"Penny, you're a genius!" Tracy shot to her feet and pulled the cord to signify she wanted to get off the bus, even though they were a block away from their stop.

"I am?"

"Come on!" Penny was dragged along behind the scurrying Tracy, into the drugstore and to the aisle where the Miss Clairol products were on display. "What do you think?"

Staring hard at the boxes, Penny said, "I don't... I mean, you'd be a blonde..."

Tracy grabbed a box marked "platinum" and headed for the counter, carefully counting out her money and then borrowing the last three cents from Penny. "And I bet my mom could make me the dress – it'll be a whole new look!"

Edna's reaction to the breathless request was, "Why would you want a thing like that, when you've got a closet full of nice skirts and blouses?"

"Please, mom? Please?" Tracy opened her eyes as wide as she could. "I just want to feel like I can be pretty, like the other girls."

"Oh, hon. You're already pretty." She paused as the telephone rang, but Penny answered it. As the girl assured her mother that she was fine and that she'd remember to read her Bible verse before bed and say her prayers, Edna sighed. "I guess I could run something up and see if you like it."

Clapping her hands and squeaking with delight, Tracy said, "Mom, I love you so much! You are the greatest mom ever!"

Penny, now off the phone, nodded. "You really are pretty great, Mrs. Turnblad."

Waving a dismissive hand and she riffled through the folded stack of cloth by her sewing table, Edna shook her head. "You girls just go start on your homework and I'll call when I'm ready for you."

They went, but Penny got her Bible reading done while Tracy took a shower and washed her hair. She'd just turned the water off when her mother called, so she pulled her slip on and wrapped a towel around her hair before padding out to the combination dining and laundry room. "Oh, Tracy! Does this mean you're going to stop making rats in your hair?"

"_No_, Mom, I just needed a new wash and set, that's all. And it's called ratting." Belatedly realizing Edna was in the middle of doing something special for her, she didn't respond to Edna's mutters on the topic of the unpleasant name being enough reason not to torture your hair like that.

When she was done with the topic, Edna gestured to the cheval mirror that had been turned to face outwards instead of to the wall. Dutifully standing in front of it, Tracy gasped as her mother wrapped several layers of stiff crinoline around her waist and pinned them in place. Next came a pretty blue cotton cloth, which got draped around her neck and over the crinoline like a halter neck sundress and tied around the waist with a sash.

It looked a lot like the dresses the girls wore on the show, but... "I look like one of those dolls you put on top of the extra toilet paper or something."

"Well, some of the fullness would go down when it's sewn properly, and--"

"Never mind, Mom." Tracy untied the sash and unpinned the crinoline, trying to smile despite the urge to cry. "It's okay, I've got a closet full of blouses and skirts that look just fine."

"Tracy..."

She finished unwrapping herself and folded the fabric. "Thanks anyway. I'm going to go work on my hair."

"All right, hon." Edna wrapped her daughter up in a tight hug. "You just make sure your light's out by ten, okay?"

"Okay."

Penny looked up from her Bible to see the moment when Tracy went from glum back to hopeful. "The dress was a bad idea, but I can still be a blonde!"

They read the instructions through twice, then followed them carefully. But before they could apply the surprisingly small amount of goop to Tracy's hair, her mother called out, "Lights out!"

"But Mom!"

"No buts, Tracy Turnblad, and no more complaints in front of your guest." The doorknob rattled and Tracy dove for the light. With a satisfied grunt at seeing the room pitch black, Edna closed the door again, and they heard her shortly moving around in her own room on the other side of the wall.

Penny whispered fiercely, "Tracy! You spilled some!"

"It's okay," Tracy said in an equally low voice. "We can just use as much as we've got on my hair, and then just make sure I stay awake until it's time to wash it off."

Feeling around until her hands were on Tracy's hair, Penny asked, "Do you think it'll matter that your hair isn't all the way dry?"

"Well, the outside is dry, and maybe the hair under it will dry as we wait for the dye to finish." Tracy tried to sound confident, since she didn't dare turn the light back on. "Do you remember how long we're supposed to wait?"

"Two hours?" Tracy nodded, and Penny's hands slipped off Tracy's head, leaving a trail of the hair dye down the sides. She went to get some more of it and frowned. "I don't think we're going to have enough – I'm barely done with your bangs and there's hardly any left."

Shrugging, Tracy whispered, "Just try to get a little bit all over and that should be okay, right?"

The first hour was spent in whispered gossip, much of which featured Link Larkin, and only the occasional scratch from Tracy at the hair trapped under a headband to get it off her face. The next half hour was spent in a continually repeated cycle of wondering whether it would be okay to wash it off early, until the burning sensation on her scalp convinced Tracy that being blonde was not worth the pain. She leaped into the shower and washed her hair twice, then put in the special cream rinse her mother had bought to restore her hair, put on a fresh shower cap so her pillow wouldn't get greasy, and went to bed to the tune of Penny's snores.

The alarm went off at six to give Tracy an extra hour to work on her hair. She ducked into the bathroom to rinse off the hair treatment without really opening her eyes, then sat at her vanity and reached for the teasing comb.

The shock of looking into the mirror was so great that she couldn't make any noise, just a small squeak that caught Penny's attention as she came back from the bathroom. The hair that had been dry had lightened to be almost white, and the rest of her hair was still as black as it had ever been. "I look like a skunk," she whispered.

Manfully, Penny took a deep breath and said, "No, it looks kind of cool. And it'll hardly show when you've got your hair ratted up."

"Do you think?" Tracy began frantically backcombing the hair on her crown and applying Ultra Clutch lavishly. Penny ducked out again to take a shower, and by the time she came back the hairdo was taking its familiar shape. The blonde bangs were really noticeable, but there were only really two blonde streaks in the rest of her hair, and those went to the sides and framed the do.

Penny took one last long look from all around and said, "I like it."

"You do? You're not just saying that?" Tracy turned her head and patted her flip a bit uncertainly.

"Of course not! And I'll bet that Link talks to you today – he really was staring at you at the hop."

Her natural ebullience restored, even if not her natural haircolor, Tracy grinned. "Help me pick out a blouse for today?"

"Okay!"


	7. Accusation

Okay, I know that officially Corny's supposed to be the father, but if so, the line about "Not quite as freewheeling" makes him the biggest jerk _ever._

Maybelle wasn't supposed to be in the studio – Negro Day wasn't for another three weeks – but she wanted to ask Corny's opinion on a dancer she was having trouble with, and have lots of time to make her decision before they were scheduled to be on the air. She'd barely gotten in the door when she heard the shouting, and taken a step after that before she realized _who_ was shouting. That Mr Spitzer would shout wasn't a surprise, that Velma would shout wasn't unheard of, but for Corny Collins to raise his voice in anger, something had to be deeply wrong.

Getting closer but still staying out of sight, Maybelle was able to make out words and sucked in a lungful of air. Velma had just screeched, "Forget the show! You're never going to work again!"

"Now, Velma, let's not be too hasty," Mr. Spitzer hurried to say. "After all, it's a very successful show, not easy to replace..."

"Not to mention that _I didn't do anything_." Corny's voice sounded downright acidic. "Or doesn't that matter anymore?"

"What matters is that there's a moral character clause in your contract, and you broke it!" Velma triumphantly waved a piece of paper in the air. "We'll just put someone else in as the host, and you can pack your bags and go."

Mr. Spitzer tried again, still sounding like he was trying to placate the screaming woman. "Look, if you just... I mean, if you don't know anyone, maybe Velma--" A look at Velma's face had him backtracking and saying, "I'm sure someone knows someone who can... take care of the problem."

Icily, Corny said, "What you're suggesting is illegal as well as immoral – and it still doesn't make any of this my fault."

"You screwed one of the dancers!" Velma's hand twitched like she wanted to slap him but didn't quite dare. "How is it not your fault you can't keep it in your pants when you're around little girls?"

Maybelle's eyes opened wide as she took in just what was at the root of the squabble. She believed sincerely when Corny retorted, "I have never looked at any one of those girls – or boys! - with lust in my heart, let alone in my actions. I would _never_ go near a child in a carnal sense, and that's all those kids are!"

"Well," Mr. Spitzer harrumphed. "I mean, most of them are over sixteen, that's not exactly..."

He trailed off in the face of Velma's viperous glare, and Maybelle made a mental note to make sure the cameramen and other adults on the set were on guard against Spitzer sniffing around the girls.

Softly, and with growing intensity, Corny said, "I will take a blood test. I will take a polygraph test. I will swear on a stack of Bibles and on the soul of my dead mother or the life of my father that I have never touched any of the dancers, let alone fathered Brenda's child."

Maybelle was an old hand in the entertainment business, and she knew a cue when she heard one, even if no one knew they'd been giving it. Stepping forward, she said, "While you're at it, you might want to get that Jesse kid in here to take some of those tests."

"What are _you_ doing here?" Velma spat out, her tone inferring even more than usual that Maybelle was something nasty on the bottom of her shoe.

"Saving y'all from making a big mistake, it looks like." Maybelle shrugged. "Unless you want to give up the most popular show in Baltimore because some little girl's too scared to admit she's been spending time in the back seat of a boy's Chevy."

She wouldn't let herself look at Corny, and she didn't want to look at Velma, so Maybelle looked straight at Mr. Spitzer. He was frowning, but it looked more thoughtful than angry. "Are you sure about that? How could you have seen them?"

"They ride off together after every rehearsal and show," she said, making sure to tread carefully to neither sound too servile or too arrogant, since this was too important to let it get messed up by the man's lousy attitude towards race relations. "They disappeared together at random times and she'd come back with her dress messed up, and one time she showed up with him during Negro Day by mistake. They were there ten minutes after the bus arrived since they'd missed it at school, and at the end of the show they were still in the parking lot, with the windows of the Chevy all steamed up."

Velma stalked away, knowing she'd lost. Mr. Spitzer blustered, "Make sure whatever replacement girl you get has some moral fiber!" before he, too, drifted away.

"That's it? They were ready to string you up and that boy was in the car with her and they're just not even going to kick him off the show?" Maybelle shook her head. "If that was my boy, he'd already be at the church, and his behind would be glowing bright from the whupping he got on the way."

She finally looked at Corny to find that he was smiling again, but it was kind of lopsided and sweet instead of big and toothy. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek briefly before stepping back to a respectable distance. "Thank you, Maybelle. You just saved my life."

It was a good thing her skin was too dark to show a blush, because she sure was feeling the heat in her cheeks. Waving a hand dismissively, she said, "I just told the God's honest truth. And it was your career I saved, not your life."

"Same thing, at this point." The expression on his face got a little sadder, but then he shook it off and started looking a little like his normal self. "So why _are_ you here? Because if there's absolutely anything I can ever do for you, I need to start spending the next fifty or so years doing it."

Maybelle rolled her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind next time I need a new car. For now, I just wanted to talk to you about Germaine..."


	8. Mystery Girl

IQ haunted the hallway again the next day but he wasn't alone, since Corny had told all the boys that had been dancing to keep an eye out for her. He was the most determined, though, and so it was fitting that he was the one who spotted her, just as he was about to run for the bus to the studio in order to make it on time. Feeling greatly bold, he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm, only to drop it when she stopped and turned. Her face was furrowed into a slight frown and he felt himself blushing for having manhandled her. "Hey, um, you danced great last night, a-and I was wondering--"

Her eyes went wide and she looked up at him with what looked like a mix of fear and anticipation, but before he could figure out if he was inviting her to the show or on a date, Link came up from behind and grabbed her hand. "Come on, little darling, we'll be late if we don't put some hustle into it."

"Late for what? What's going on?" She was running to try to keep up with Link's long strides and IQ was telling himself not to seethe at the interruption, since they really did need to hurry.

"You're a member of the Council now," IQ managed to say. It was a lot easier to talk when he wasn't looking into her eyes, or trying to keep his own eyes at respectable levels, or wondering what happened to her hair. "Corny said he wanted you to start today."

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Are you serious?" She looked between the both of them suspiciously. "You're not playing a prank, are you?"

"Little darling, I would never play a prank like this." Link gave her his best heartthrob look, but the girl turned to IQ, still looking like she didn't believe it.

IQ had no trouble looking only into her eyes as he willed her to believe when he said, "I don't play cruel games, Miss. It's really true. Corny loved your dancing so much that he tried to catch you, but you were too quick getting on the bus."

She was quiet, but it was the quiet of a ticking bomb and IQ fought the urge to fidget. Suddenly, the girl tore her arm away from Link's hold and started sprinting back the way they'd come. The two boys looked at each other and said, "Go hold the bus!" at the same time, but both tore after the mystery girl.

The girl passed them moving in the other direction, though, and called over her shoulder, "Didn't you say we were running late?"

It turned out they hadn't needed to rush, since Amber was refusing to let the bus leave until Link had arrived. "Sorry, _honey_, Council members only. You can go out with IQ later."

"She _is_ a Council member!" chorused about half the bus before dissolving into giggles. Amber frowned and grabbed Link's arm, dragging him towards the back of the bus, while IQ escorted Tracy to an empty seat, holding her elbow to support her as the bus lurched into motion.

Once seated, she smiled hugely and said, "Hi, I'm Tracy Turnblad."

"I'm--"

"I know, you're IQ. You usually partner with Shelley and you guys did a great waltz last week in the solo spotlight – it reminded me of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers!" Her smile wasn't shrinking at all, and he felt like his insides were turning to jelly as he stammered out a thank you.

She kept talking, and he kept looking at her and trying not to blush. "I always wondered what your real name was – my friend Penny said it was probably something like Ignatius Quentin, but I told her that IQ is probably just because you're so smart."

"Egghead here hasn't told any of us his real name." A dark head popped up from behind them, accompanied by a hand which was thrust in Tracy's direction. "Hi, I'm Joey. We'll probably be partners, since I was matched up with Brenda."

"Hi, Joey!" Somehow, her smile was less wonderful and her cheery babbling less adorable when it was directed at someone else. "You and Brenda made a great team – you were _so great_ when you guys introduced the Peppermint Twist. I just hope I can do all right in her place."

"Just move like you did last night, baby doll." This time it was Sketch, leaning over the back of his seat to wink at her. IQ had never before realized just how little he liked his fellow man in general and his fellow dancers in particular. "And now tell me what my dance is that you noticed."

"You and LouAnn did the mambo!" Tracy giggled. "My mom saw it and said I needed to turn the tv off, because the way you were wiggling your hips looked lewd."

He laughed and winked broadly. "It sure was, sugar. I'll show it to you sometime."

"Sketch!" IQ was grateful for Amber's scandalized shriek, because it stopped him from saying or doing something stupidly hostile. "Stop bothering the girl and think about what you're going to do to convince _the station manager_ that you're not going to be dirty on camera next time you get a spotlight – if you ever do."

Sketch said something unsuitable for the ears of a lady, but he turned back the right way in his seat. Tracy leaned in and whispered to IQ, "Is Miss Baltimore Crabs the station manager?"

"Yeah, you--" Oh, God, now he recognized that he'd seen her before the locker incident. "I'm sorry about the audition. Mrs. Von Tussle is... Well, she's not usually very kind to anyone except Amber, and even to her she can be pretty nasty sometimes."

Her smile diminished, but she tried to keep it on her face as she said, "It's all right. It's all worked out okay, right?"

"It's great," he said, smiling at her with complete sincerity. Right at the moment, with her half pressed against him due to the small seats and all of her attention on him, things were definitely good.


	9. And now Tracy!

"You found her!" Corny's smile was even more dazzling in person, and Tracy found herself responding to it with a huge smile of her own. She was really here, and he'd really been expecting her!

IQ, who had escorted her in with her hand on his elbow like a real lady and gentleman, said promptly, "Miss Tracy Turnblad, this is Mr. Corny Collins. Corny, this is Tracy."

She almost fainted as _the_ Corny Collins shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Tracy – you ready to be a member of the Council?"

"Yes!" She was probably too loud, but it was impossible not to be – this was all too exciting, a dream coming true that she'd thought was lost forever.

Corny laughed a bit, but it was a nice laugh and so she didn't mind. "Well, little Tracy, we're going to have to do some paperwork and I'm going to have to meet your parents, so before you go I'll have to get your information and I'll talk to them tomorrow, all right? And I'll give you the number here for the show so your folks can call in if there's any problems."

Nodding because she didn't think she'd be able to speak, she listened as he rapidly went through the changes that would be made in her life – morning rehearsals twice a week, three times if they had a special event or routine coming up, and afternoon rehearsals every weekday just before the show, which meant that she'd have to switch her class schedule to accommodate getting to school late and leaving early. She'd have to provide her own clothes, and she had to arrive and depart the studio by the special school bus, not private transportation except in cases of verifiable emergencies. She would get a section of the communal dressing table for her own, and lastly, "The main thing to remember is that while we're on the air, you've got to show that beautiful smile of yours as much as you can, okay? Can you do that for ol' Corny?"

"Of course!" The problem would be if she had to _stop_ smiling, because she wasn't sure she ever would.

He gave her another smile and then put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. "All right, everybody, please welcome Tracy to the Council. She's going to be teaching you the dance she did last night at the hop, which is going to be our dance of the week. Pay attention and play nice."

Tracy didn't have time to be nervous, because as soon as Corny was gone, Sketch grabbed her and twirled her around. "Ready to mambo?"

"We've got to learn the dance," Link said sharply, just as a record of distinctly non-mambo music started playing softly. IQ looked up from his position by the record player and shrugged.

"Thanks, but it looks like we'll have to mambo later." She smiled at Sketch for being nice enough to try to make her feel included, at IQ for being so thoughtful as to put on music, and at Link for, well, being Link. Distantly aware that she'd look like an idiot if she spent the whole time doing nothing but smiling, she cleared her throat and said, "Well, it goes like this."

She started moving through the dance, but a little slower than normal. The first time through she was by herself, but then IQ and Sketch and Joey and Link joined in, although Link was still a bit awkward. The third time through, almost everybody had joined in, and Tracy started paying attention to how each one was catching on. "Hang on, it's... IQ, since you've almost got it down, could you please man the record player?"

He smiled at her brightly as he went and she smiled back, knowing the great feeling of having mastered a new dance. When the music stopped, Tracy spoke again, demonstrating her actions with movements. "Okay, here a lot of you are doing this, but you should be doing it this way. See?"

"Show us again?" Sketch said, and even though there were some giggles, Tracy complied.

"Okay, you guys try. IQ?" The music went back on and Tracy watched them without dancing herself, then frowned and walked over to Vicky. "May I?"

The girl looked at her blankly but nodded, and Tracy put her hands on Vicky's hips to guide her through the rolling motion. "See? Like that."

Vicky tried it again on her own, and Tracy beamed at her. "That's perfect! You're a great dancer!"

After Vicky had smiled back hesitantly, Tracy turned back to find that several of the boys who she'd thought had the movements down were now making mistakes. She was about to demonstrate one more time when a voice she would never forget rang out. "_What_ is going on here? Amber?"

The named girl stepped forward from where she'd been obscured from Tracy's view and said sullenly, "It's the dance of the week."

"Is there a great white whale version of the twist now?" Mrs. Von Tussle looked down her nose at Tracy, who found that she actually _was_ capable of losing her smile. "I'm afraid there's been a grave mistake."

"No mistake, Velma." Corny appeared as if by magic and a sigh of relief passed through most of the people present. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got to go over the arrangements for the roll call to add Tracy."

Mrs. Von Tussle's nostrils flared and she looked at Corny as if he were a bug. "Don't bother. She's not--"

"This is The Corny Collins Show," Corny said, sounding almost scary despite his smile. "And Tracy is the newest member of The Corny Collins Show Council. Now please get out of my studio."

He turned his back on her and faced the dancers. "All right, I want Tracy to make a big entrance-- Something to say, Amber?"

The giggle had been clearly audible, but the girl just said brightly, "No, of course not."

"Okay, so what's going to happen is that Tracy won't dance the introduction, just wait backstage. Link, you'll have to direct her where to stand, since she's going to be the last. Your intro will be cut down to just the same amount the other kids get, so practice if you need to."

"Yes, sir." Link didn't look angry or upset, and Tracy breathed an internal sigh of relief.

"Tracy, when you get out there, give it a lot of pep, all right? Everything you've got, and then some. Once you hear the music shift, start in on the dance – what's the name of it, anyway?"

"It's the Peyton Place After Midnight..." In a rush she added, "But I didn't invent it, my friend Seaweed did."

Corny looked a bit strange for a second, but then he went on. "We'll cover that in the interview afterwards – just answer honestly and be sure to smile, but don't use any words not suitable for company."

Clapping his hands, he called out, "All right, places for the roll call. Tracy, follow Link."

They went through it twice, and then arranged that she'd go around in front of Corny for the final shot, since the cameraman couldn't see her if she stood in the crowd. "Great job, kids. Take five and then assemble for the show – and practice that dance this weekend, I want you all to have it down pat by Monday."

Link turned to Tracy and she thought that she'd have to start controlling her reactions to him, since it'd be a bit embarrassing to start squealing and blushing every time someone she saw every day looked at her. "See, I told you he'd put you in the show."

"You did," she said, and she couldn't stop the grin from popping back onto her face, even though her cheeks were tired from smiling so much. "Thank you."

"Come on, I'll show you around." He guided her through the studio, and ended by excusing himself discreetly in front of the restrooms. Grateful beyond words that she'd have a chance to use the facilities before the show, she scurried in only to find all the stalls were full and most of the girls from the show were in there – and none of them looked friendly.

"Are you going steady with anyone?"

"Who do you have a crush on?"

"How far have you gone?"

"Where did you learn to dance like that?"

The last one came from Vicky, who shrugged when the others stopped to look at her. Tracy took a deep breath and answered the questions she could pick out of the barrage in order. "No, I'm not going steady. After today, Corny. Just kissing. From my mom, and watching you guys, and detention." Spotting an open stall, she scurried into it only to find she couldn't do anything with the others listening.

They filtered out as someone yelled, "Places!" and Tracy finished as quickly as she could, checked that her skirt hadn't hitched in her waistband, her teeth were clear, and her hair was still in place, then ran like the dickens to get where she was supposed to go.

"Being late is _so_ unprofessional," Amber sneered, but then the cameraman started counting and everyone was smiling and smiling and smiling, and Tracy was trying to contain herself from bursting with joy. This was really happening!


	10. Man Talk

The boys had all ended up coming over to Link's to work on perfecting the Peyton Place, and Link wasn't sure if he was thrilled or horrified, because Tracy had been the main topic of conversation from the moment the bus had dropped them off.

Sketch kicked it off by saying dramatically, "Miss Baltimore Crabs was right!" After a moment of waiting for comments or questions that didn't come, he continued with, "Seeing a girl dance like that really did give me all the wrong ideas... But they feel oh so right!"

"Fat girls are easy, you shouldn't have any problems." Jesse shrugged. "Don't see the appeal, personally, but she'd probably go all the way just out of gratitude for someone looking at her."

Link was, for a moment, grateful at IQ's obvious crush on Tracy as the boy said hotly, "She's not like that!"

"How would you know, egghead?" Brad flicked a finger on IQ's forehead as they all trooped into the empty two car garage, where a record player was already set up in the corner for whenever the guys wanted to practice.

Everyone looked at IQ as he blushed slightly, and Link took back every thought he'd ever had about liking the boy as he wondered just what caused it. "Shelley told me the girls grilled her in the bathroom before the show."

_That_ got everyone's attention, so no one noticed how Link froze as he reached for a record. Stupid! He should've known what she'd have to face, not just dropped her off because he always needed to go just before a show. But, since he'd already done it...

IQ looked around at the intently listening crowd and sighed. "You guys aren't going to leave me alone about this, are you?"

Amidst the nodding, Sketch said, "There may be Indian burns involved. Just so you know."

"She's gone as far as kissing, but she's not going steady with anyone right now. And she's got a crush on Corny." IQ stopped to grimace, but went on, "Shelley said she thought that part might've been just because she met him and he was nice."

Link chewed over the information as he put the record to play and everyone started dancing. They stopped again when Sketch said, "Could you believe when she put her hands on Vicky's hips? Girl on girl, man – outta sight!"

"Girls... Together?" This whole thing of letting other people say what he wanted to was fairly new, but it was working out really well for Link. This time it was Joey and not IQ, who was just standing there with his jaw slightly open.

Throwing his arm around Joey's shoulders, Sketch said expansively, "Old son, there's a whole wide world of nudie mags in my dad's den that I need to introduce you to. Yes, naked girls, kissing each other, in glorious life-like color."

"We have to practice," Link said, his voice cracking as unwholesome images flooded his mind.

"Come on, Link!" Jesse whined. "Just because your balls haven't dropped yet, doesn't mean the rest of us have the same problem."

"They're probably just hiding from Amber," was Brad's witty retort, followed closely by IQ saying, "Don't talk about a lady like that."

"That chick's no lady," Sketch said with a snort. "Forget this, I'm done practicing. Who wants to go to my house and read some magazines?"

He led the charge and shortly it was just IQ and Link remaining. They looked at each other and shrugged. "I think I'll head out, too, unless you need some help with the dance."

"Nah, I'm all right. I think I got it now." The other boy left, and Link went through about half of the routine before shutting off the record player and bounding up the stairs as well as he was able. He had time and privacy now, and thinking of the way she'd demonstrated the dance had taken its toll.


	11. Sweet Dreams

He was already settled into bed when the phone rang, but he reached over and answered it anyway. "Mr. Corny Collins, you sure do like to live dangerously."

"Maybelle." He smiled to himself and settled further into his mattress, pulling the covers up as he held the phone by his ear. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Her voice was sharp, but he could tell she was amused.

Even though she wasn't there to see it, he put on his best choirboy face and said, "Well, I know I had Tracy rat out Seaweed going to detention, but I thought you'd be happy to know what your son is doing at school."

"Yeah, he heard a lot about that from me, but he was too happy that little girl gave him the credit in front of God and everybody to really notice." Her tone shifted and he knew she meant business now. "And the little girl's what I wanted to talk to you about, Mister Collins."

He grinned again; he couldn't help it. "She's really something, isn't she? I don't think I've ever been as happy as she was today."

"And why shouldn't she be? Us big girls get a lot of grief in our early years, but there she was being treated like a star and getting a hug from _the_ Corny Collins, the cutest white boy ever. It's just good the little thing didn't keel over dead from the excitement."

He waited a beat after she was finished and then said carefully, "So you think I'm cute?"

"There's just no talking to you, is there?" If he'd been in reach, he'd have gotten a slap to the back of the head accompanying that tone. "Here I am trying to say you did a good thing and all you're concerned about is that big head of yours."

"Mmmm."

There was a moment of silence and then she gasped. "Corny Collins, you are a dirty, dirty man. You know I didn't mean it that way."

"A boy can dream, can't he?" His voice got deeper as he said, "Let me tell you about some of my dreams..."

"I am getting off the phone before you turn my poor head with all this nasty talk." But she didn't hang up immediately. Instead she said, "You're a good man, honey. Thank you for having her on, and letting her talk."

He heard the click as she set down her end, not giving him a chance to respond. He sighed and set the receiver back in the cradle, certain that tonight's dreams, coming on the heels of listening to her voice while he was lying in bed, were certain to be epic.


	12. Breakfast

Monday morning meant an extra rehearsal, to get Tracy up to speed since she'd started on Friday. Link would've gotten up early a million times to be able to see her shake and shimmy, but it was still rough going. Since he was the one who lived closest to the school and thus farthest from the studio, he was the first one picked up – no joke when they had to be at the studio by seven. Blearily, he grabbed his school bag, which contained a mirror and the styling products he'd need for his hair, and had just enough time to take a swallow of milk from the bottle before he heard the bus and ran outside.

He got his hair in order with Brylcreem, but the bus driver had banned the use of hairspray and so he just wiped his hands on a handkerchief and started on his homework as the bus went through its route and the others filtered on, no more awake than he was. He didn't even look up as they made all the familiar stops, but then the bus filled up with heavenly smells. "If whoever brought the food doesn't give me some, I'm going to take it anyway."

"Um. It's okay, I was planning to share." His head shot up to see a bright red Tracy Turnblad, holding a tray wrapped in foil. "Shouldn't we wait until we get to the studio, though?"

The driver tipped his cap back and said, "If there's some for me, I'd love to have mine now, miss."

"Oh! Of course there is!" She beamed and peeled back the foil, displaying cinnamon rolls that were still warm and steaming. The eyes of multiple teenagers followed as he drew one out from the tray, sugar glaze and butter gleaming on its surface. As the driver sank his teeth into it and moaned, it wasn't just Link's stomach that was growling.

She started making her way back to find an open seat, much delayed by people reaching out to her tray. The bus driver, still intent on savoring his treat, made no motion to start the bus rolling despite his normal obsession with keeping a schedule. She finally slid in next to IQ in the next to last seat, giving the boy a roll with her very own hands. Link positively burned with jealousy, an emotion not terribly familiar to him before he'd seen her dancing.

"Don't I get one?" He leaned forward to give her his best pleading look.

"Of course you do." She looked so shy as she flushed and held out the tray that his heart gave an extra little flutter. "You can pick whatever you want."

"I want you!" Sketch's impassioned declaration as he lunged over the back of his seat was somewhat hampered by the jerk of the bus starting to move. Undaunted, he seized Tracy's hand and kissed it. "If you promise to bring me some of those every day, I'll give you my class ring. We'll go steady and mambo every day so I can keep my figure."

Her head turned down as if she suddenly found the floor fascinating, and Link mentally cheered as IQ shoved Sketch back over into his own seat, with a cuff to the back of the head for good measure. As Tracy started to look up at the noise, Link leaned forward some more and said, "Since I picked last, do I get two?"

"Sure," she whispered, her eyes still downcast. He reached out and took two of the remaining pastries on the much depleted tray, and echoed the moans of others as he bit into it. "This is incredible." Her thanks were almost inaudible, but he was too busy savoring the food to worry too much about it.

Link had finished his two rolls and was wondering whether he'd be able to coax her out of a third when they reached the studio. Link hung back as the others made their way off the bus, watching as Tracy stopped to say thank you and give the driver another roll. The man's face actually formed a smile, something Link would've said was impossible, and Tracy smiled back before calling a cheery goodbye and going down the steps.

Amber was waiting for him at the bottom and grabbed his arm the second he appeared. "Hi, baby! Your hair looks great today."

"Thanks." He looked ahead and saw Tracy's round backside swaying back and forth, and the tray she still held. Towing Amber along, since she wasn't about to let go, he caught up and said, "Hey, little darling, any chance of another one?"

"Sure!" Smiling hesitantly, she said, "Amber, would you like a cinnamon roll, too?"

"A moment on the lips, eternity on the hips." He'd heard it every time Amber even looked at anything edible, both from her and from her mom, so he didn't think twice about her saying it now until the tray, and Tracy, had turned away and promptly disappeared into the building.

"I-- I didn't--" Amber stumbled over her words for a moment, then pulled herself together and tightened her hold on Link's arm. "Come on, let's go dance. You need to work off those calories."

He sighed and wondered again just what he'd gotten himself into.


	13. A Real Exclusive Club

Tracy skidded to a halt in the hallway just outside the detention room, shocked to see a crowd standing at the door. "Is something wrong?"

"They won't let us in!" said the girl closest to the door, who was clutching a detention slip.

Making her way through the crowd, Tracy peered in through the part of the window that wasn't covered, only to find someone peering out. The door swung open and Tracy was ushered in while everyone else was kept firmly out. "What's going on?"

Seaweed danced up next to her and whirled her around. "Someone ratted us out, Miss Tracy."

Still confused, Tracy was going to ask again, but he laughed. "It seems that once it got out that Mr. Seaweed J. Stubbs, the most popular dancer on Negro Day and the inventor of the Peyton Place After Midnight, spent most of his time dancing in detention and teaching people how to dance, everybody wanted to join the party."

"That's great!" Tracy clapped her hands with happiness before noticing that he didn't look happy. "It's not great?"

The gleaming white of his smile burst through his stony expression and he laughed. "No, it's actually pretty great. Not a lot of people would've talked about how I was the one who came up with the dance, especially not _before_ talking about being president."

"Or a Rockette!" said one of the girls, the one who always looked cranky. Several of the other girls laughed and so Tracy laughed, too, even if she didn't entirely get the joke. Maybe she wouldn't be either of those, but why not dream big?

Shrugging it off, Tracy said, "It's your dance. It should've been you showing it off in the first place."

"Yeah, but didn't I say you were pretty good for a white chick?" The song changed and Seaweed shifted to a new set of motions, which Tracy followed. "So good you're going to snatch that cracker boy right out from under blondie's nose."

"Do you really think-- I mean, I don't..." She trailed off in confusion, her body going still. Could everybody tell she had a crush on Link? Could _Link_? It was one thing to hear bells, but another thing to be _obvious_. The last thing she wanted was for him to laugh at her.

Seaweed bumped his behind against hers. "Come on, sweet thing, keep shaking your tailfeather. I didn't mean nothing."

Giggling, Tracy set to shaking. "Is anyone going to let the people in who are still outside?"

"We're a real exclusive kind of club here, baby." Seaweed twisted his arms like writhing snakes as he gestured to take in the whole room. "Only the coolest cats get to be in on our practice."

She imitated his movements and threw in a pirouette so that she could look around. Realizing that she knew all of the faces in the room, she said, "Oh! You're rehearsing for Negro Day!"

"Yeah, baby, and you're our good luck charm." He bumped his behind into hers again and she giggled before bumping back, then bumping the next person until everybody had joined in, with hand jives and clapping to go with it.

"This is _so_ much fun! I wish I could stay in here all day!"

The friendly girl with the straight hair laughed. "So does Seaweed!"

Oooohs came up in a chorus as Seaweed rolled his eyes but looked abashed. One of the boys called out, "Your butt still hurtin' from Mama Maybelle's whuppin'?"

"Hey, man, shut up." Seaweed sounded a bit whiny, then regrouped. "Least I got a mama. All you got's a dump truck in a wig."

Any further comments were prevented by the ending bell for the period, and Tracy scrambled to pick up her books. "Hey, Seaweed, I wanted to say thanks for letting me borrow your dance."

"You're welcome." He picked up his own books and walked out beside her. "You coming back later?

"My mom made me promise not to go into detention if I could help it." Her lips twisted with disappointment. "I can only come during my study hall for home ec."

He shrugged. "My mama threatened to whup the black right out of my skin if I didn't start going to classes, so I know what you mean."

The first bell rang and Tracy sighed. "See you later, Seaweed. I've got to go get some sleep in algebra."

"Later," he said with a sideways smile. "You go enjoy that beauty sleep."


	14. Doowop Angels

It felt like all of IQ's Christmases had come at once when the bus stopped and Tracy stood up to leave. It was just a few streets away from his normal stop, so he swung down, following her off. "Hey, Tracy!"

She had been practically running, but she stopped to look back. "Oh, let me help you with those!" She reached out and took about half of the stack of books he held, smiling cheerily. "If I'd known you live nearby, I'd have offered before."

He grimaced. "Isn't the boy supposed to be the one carrying the girl's books?"

"You can carry mine some other time, although I doubt I'll ever have this many. You must've borrowed half the library."

"Something like that. I need to get cracking on my term paper, so I don't have to worry about it during finals." He sighed. "Never agree to an honors class. If someone offers it, spit in their eye."

Tracy giggled. "I doubt anyone will offer - I get Cs in everything except home ec."

"I can't even boil an egg," he said quickly, trying to make her feel better.

She giggled. "I should tutor you - I got an automatic A plus and a study hall for home ec, because the teacher said I was intimidating the other girls. Apparently if you can cook a perfect Beef Wellington while making a dress, it discourages the girls just learning how to cook a pork chop and hem a napkin."

"Wow. You're going to be the perfect wife... Er, for some lucky fellow." Her smile dimmed a little, and he tried to move on by saying, "Tutoring would be great – and I could pay you back with tutoring in other classes if you wanted to try for a B."

She turned her head to peep up at him through her lashes coquettishly, but all she said was, "I'd like that. Especially since I'll need to catch up to the new classes I got transferred into."

"O-okay. So maybe we can go to the library together after the show?" He was having a hard time containing his grin, and his lack of concentration meant that he tripped over a large crack in the sidewalk and spilled all the books he was carrying onto the ground.

"Are you okay?" She reached down to try to help him up and he got an unimpeded view down her blouse. This was shaping up to be the best day of his entire life. "IQ?"

He scrambled to his feet, bending to pick up his books. "Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. I really should've brought an extra bag to school for all these."

"Well, we're almost to my house - I can get you a bag from my dad's shop, but he won't let me walk the rest of the way with you if we stop." She frowned a bit, but he could've sworn he heard a choir of angels singing; if she couldn't go with him, she wouldn't notice how far away it was. So, while he would never be as suave as someone like Link or Fender, he might at least put off her finding out how big a drip he really was.

"Hey, the Hardy Har Hut. My little brother loves that store, I should stop in and get him something. Do you mind?" Okay, the way she was looking at him now, scratch that last thought. Straight back to Squaresville for good ol' IQ. "We don't have to, it's okay."

She shook her head. "Well, no, we do. That's my dad's store – the Taj Mahal of joke shops."

The angels were back, singing hallelujahs in doo-wop harmony. "Oh. Well, I guess you don't mind if we stop."

"I sure don't." She waited as he pulled open the door, then waited some more. This was probably because it was an utter madhouse inside.

"Tracy!" The cry went out and all of the people in the store – really, it wasn't out of the question for the fire marshal to shut the place down for overcrowding – flocked to her en masse and started waving fans and whoopee cushions at her, along with pens and pieces of paper.

She was trying to talk to everybody at once and sign everything thrust at her, but she was obviously overwhelmed. IQ pulled her back out onto the sidewalk. "Where's your house? I don't think you're going to reach your dad through all that."

Belying his words, the proprietor stepped out in a jaunty yellow hat and suspenders adorned with Tracy's face. "Come on in, baby, see what I got. I had Joe work all weekend to get some merchandise to start with, and he's going to be making some dolls to match your beautiful face, and his wife's working on getting wigs made."

"Daddy!" She was bright red. "Daddy, this is IQ, he's my first friend from the show. IQ, this is Mr. Wilbur Turnblad."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," IQ said automatically, holding out a hand.

Mr. Turnblad shook it, but gave him a look that was just a bit frightening. "Pleasure's all mine for my baby's gentleman caller."

Tracy wailed out, "Daaaaaaaaad!" but it was drowned out by squealing from the crowd that had spilled out from the joke shop. One girl yelled out, "Are you and IQ going steady?"

Clearing his throat as Tracy buried her face in her hands, IQ said, "No, no, we're just friends. We're not even dating." Yet, he added silently.

The crowd got subdued for a moment, until Mr. Turnblad said, "All right, everybody line up inside who wants to get a signed photo of Tracy." The crowd magically formed into an orderly queue and he turned to his daughter. "Come on, doll, we gotta go in and have you sign some pictures."

"Okay, but first could you get a bag for IQ to carry his books in?" He agreed and ducked into the store, leaving IQ and Tracy to stand awkwardly next to each other and blush. "Um... Could you not tell the others about this? It's totally embarrassing, I had no idea my dad was going to do this."

IQ smiled. "He's obviously a big fan of yours, just like the rest of us. When I first got on the show, my little brother tried to sell autographed photos for a nickel and he couldn't even sell one. I tell myself it's because he faked my signature, but he did a pretty good job."

"I would have bought one." She looked at him with wide eyes. "You're so handsome, and such a good dancer, I would've payed a whole dime!"

He grinned, but her father came out with the bag and then hustled her inside, so he couldn't respond. The whole way home, though, he kept smiling, because she thought he was handsome and he was going to see her after rehearsals every day, plus there was that glimpse down her blouse. He was so happy that the weight of the books he carried was the only thing holding him down on the ground when he felt like he was floating on air.


	15. The Arrangement

Note: I moved up the date of Jimmy Soul's "If You Wanna Be Happy" from 1963 to 1962. I mean, half the board behind Corny during the movie hadn't been released by the time of the movie, so it's totally justified, and yet I feel the need to confess.

Thank you all for your reviews - I'm sorry I haven't been answering each individually, but school started for me again (I graduate with a bachelor's in history in May after either 4.5 or 16 years, depending on how you count). Time is somewhat crunched, and I haven't wanted to stop writing to thank everyone personally. I do appreciate the feedback, though, and I'm taking it into account as I edit the ficlets already written, add more to what's planned, and write new ones.

The most asked question/comment is about IQ. Basically, in the movie, the time he's most visible is during "I Can Hear the Bells." Tracy walks down the hallway, bumping into Fender, shoving Noreen and Doreen aside, and then she slams IQ into a locker - and he looks pretty darn happy about it, hence why he caught my attention.

* * *

.o.o.o.

* * *

Link felt like his birthday had come early as he swung through Canton on his way to school – all right, so it was a good while out of his way, but he didn't often get to drive his car in the morning and he was determined to enjoy it. And enjoy it he would, because just up ahead he spotted a familiar figure shaking her tail at the corner while the school bus left her behind. It looked like she'd just noticed as he pulled up beside her. "Need a ride, little darling?" 

"Oh!" A garbage truck drove by and the driver waved, prompting Tracy to wave back. "Mr Callahan usually gives me a ride if I miss the bus, so I guess I really do need one now."

Frowning, he parked and stepped around to open the door for her. "You shouldn't take rides from strange men, you know. You could get..." After some hasty mental editing, the lurid tales he had heard of rape and murder were distilled to, "Hurt."

"I've known Mr. Callahan for years – he's a friend of my father's. And I'm sure that sort of thing can't happen if it's a friend of the family." She settled into the plush bench seat with a smile, but all the way on the other end of the car. "And I know you, so that's two men giving me rides who aren't strangers."

Flush with pride at being called a man instead of a boy, Link put the car in gear and started driving smoothly while trying to think of a manly topic of conversation. His stomach rumbling was not what he'd hoped for, but he'd left without breakfast again. "You wouldn't happen to have any more of those great cinnamon rolls, would you?"

"No... But I've got an extra ham biscuit if you want it." She wiggled around to get at her satchel on the floor, and came up with a bundle wrapped in a linen napkin that, when opened, released a smell of ambrosia. "My mom said one of the conditions of being on the show is to eat a proper breakfast, so I've been getting used to waking up early and cooking."

He took a bite and closed his eyes in bliss, then opened them hurriedly when he remembered he was currently operating a moving vehicle. "You made this? It's incredible!"

"Thanks!" She beamed at him and he tried to think of a pretty way to say he liked her smile that wouldn't sound too sappy, but she kept talking. "It's like the song says, if you marry an ugly girl, she'll really know how to cook."

With a wink, he asked, "What happens if you find a pretty girl who can cook?"

"Amber can cook?" The shock in her voice was total, as his would've been if he had been told Amber even knew how to find her kitchen.

"No, I meant you." He laughed. "Is it always this hard to give you a compliment?"

"I don't know, I've never tried." She looked down at her hands, which were still clutching the napkin and biscuits. "Did you want another one?"

Link practically snatched it from her hand, and had a mouthful already as he said, "Thank you." They would be at the school in a moment, so he took a turn that would make them go around an extra block. "Tell you what, if you bring me breakfasts like these, I'll give you a ride to school every day we don't have rehearsal." Sure, he'd have to go back to the school after the show to get the car, but it was only about a mile from his house. If the bus driver wouldn't take him there, he could hoof it.

Giggling, she said, "Between you and IQ, I'll meet most of my conditions easily."

IQ again. Technically, there was no reason why the other boy shouldn't pursue Tracy. And Link wasn't, in the strictest sense of the word, completely free to pursue her. He'd have to talk to Mrs. Von Tussle about fixing that, because while he wasn't ready to ask her to go steady, he'd at least like to tell IQ and Sketch to back off. "What are those conditions, anyway?"

She ticked them off on her fingers. "I have to stop being tardy all the time, bring my grades up, eat a good breakfast, and not go to detention if I can help it."

Carefully making sure he sounded casual, he said, "I'm supposed to bring my grades up, too. Want to study together?"

"Well, IQ already said he'd tutor me... But since you're in my classes, maybe you could help, too?" They were pulling into the school parking lot and he took the chance to look at her fully.

She looked sunny and happy and cute, but she almost always did, and he couldn't tell if she really wanted him to come or not. Either way, he'd be muscling in whenever possible, because the less time IQ had alone with her, the less likely that the other boy would claim her before Link could free himself and join in the pursuit.


	16. Velma

"Mrs. Von Tussle?"

Velma looked up from the paperwork she was going over to see Amber's little greaser boyfriend shifting his weight around nervously. "I'm about to leave for an important meeting, can this wait?"

"Um, no, not really." He finally got up the balls to step inside and she looked him over critically. The little girls all loved him, but really he was just a baby playing dress-up and pretending he was going to be a star. It made her feel old and she hated feeling old, because she wasn't.

She didn't say anything, just stared at him while he fidgeted uncomfortably and finally blurted out, "I don't want to pretend to be Amber's boyfriend anymore."

Oh, God, what now? If Amber lost the shiny toy her mother had procured for her, the girl would be insufferable. And, really, they were just playing anyway; they were much too young to really start having relationships. "I see. May I ask why?"

Did the boy never stop moving around? If he got any more twitchy, he'd need to be evaluated for palsy. Finally he muttered, "She's taking it too seriously."

"I see." And she did. Just like all boys and men, he wanted to play the field. Well, he could, but not until Amber had landed him. They'd stick with holding hands for a few years, and then when they were old enough that it wouldn't be indecent, Amber would allow herself to be seduced, impregnated, and safely married to the boy, whose father was absolutely loaded and a pillar of the community. The important thing was to handle the situation delicately in the intervening time. "Have you done something which made her think you intended to turn the situation real? Pushed her for intimacy, perhaps?"

"_No!_" Velma fought the urge to wrinkle her nose as it looked like the boy might piss himself at the question. "She's the one who keeps kissing me, and she won't let go of my arm whenever another girl is even just in the same room."

"Are you sure?" She smiled her sweetest smile. "Because I seem to remember hearing otherwise."

It was a shock when, instead of mumbling and scurrying away, the boy stood up straighter and said, "Look, you had said this was good publicity for the show and for me, but that we could stop if I wanted to see other girls or anything. And I want to stop."

"Who is it that you want to date instead of my daughter?" If it was another of the Council girls, this would be as simple as telling the girl privately what would happen if she trespassed on Von Tussle territory.

"No one." He was lying, but it would be tiresome to pry it out of him. Velma looked at her watch; she should already have left if she wanted enough time to change clothes.

"If there's no one you want to date, then why is it so pressing? After all," she stood and stretched, displaying her body in the way that had always made men's knuckles go white. "It's still excellent publicity, especially when you sing for her after she wins the Miss Hairspray pageant. Unless, of course, you're too nervous to perform live on national television?"

"National?" His voice cracked and she thought she had him, but once again he surprised her. "But couldn't I do that without pretending to be going steady?"

She gave the silvery laugh she'd been trained to fake, while inwardly cursing the stubborn little idiot. "Link, people love the romance of it all! Look at Doris Day and Rock Hudson, or Frankie Avalon and Annette... Whatever her last name is. I'm afraid the agents might not get as good a sense of your appeal if they didn't also see you as a romantic hero."

"But I read that it hurts your career if the girls in the audience think you're taken." The little pissant was arguing with her!

Velma drew herself up to her full height and said icily, "If you know so much, feel free to arrange your own opportunities. Several of the boys have asked for more screen time, and I'm sure that Amber would enjoy a trip to New York to visit agents instead of asking them to come all the way down here to see both of you."

"That's not what I meant!" He was sweating a bit now, the layers of Brylcreem and hairspray starting to melt and cause his hair to creep down his forehead. "I just... We could pretend to go out sometimes, but I just don't want to pretend to go steady."

If she didn't leave right then, she would be more than fashionably late after re-doing her makeup, and Amber's problems weren't worth the risk of alienating a very generous lover. Velma picked up her wrap and swirled it over her shoulders. "If all you wanted was to get your class ring back, you should have said so. It's much too big for Amber anyway."

"That's not--"

She walked away, calling back over her shoulder, "I'll handle everything, don't worry." And she would, by taking the ring while Amber was asleep and then letting nature take its course. She might become a grandmother at a shockingly young age, but no one really needed to know about it once Amber was settled down and Velma could shake the dust of Baltimore off her fabulous high heeled shoes.


	17. Special Request

Since you guys are so awesome that I've gotten 100 reviews so far - yay! - I figured I'd put this one up a little early. Muchas smooches!

* * *

"And now, for the solo spotlight, let's turn to our telegraph to see who the lucky couple will be today!" The dancers all smiled and clapped at Corny's announcement, and Tracy hung back a bit so she could let her smile drop enough to take a deep breath. It wouldn't be her, since it always took new girls a while to gain enough popularity for anyone to go to the expense of a telegram, and anyway it was usually Amber and Link, like it had been yesterday. 

She had to regain her smile in a hurry as Corny said, "Mr. Hugh J. Koph writes, 'Please have Sketch and Tracy dance a mambo to a record of their choice.' Well, what do you say, kids?"

Tracy just smiled as hard as she could and tried not to feel at all terrified at not knowing the dance backwards and forwards like she did most of the others. Sketch told Corny the name of a record and then took her hand, guiding her to the front of the dance floor. Around her smile, she whispered, "I don't know how to do this dance! My mom wouldn't let me watch it, remember?"

"Come on, hon, we have to obey the telegram, don't we?" When she nodded, he pinched her cheek and winked. "That's the spirit. Just hold on as tight as you want and try to follow what I do, okay?"

He took her hand and they did the best approximation of proper dance position they could manage with the large height difference between them. It was a bit closer than it should have been, but the alternative was for Tracy to put her arm around his waist and that was an even bigger breach of propriety than not leaving plenty of space between them for the Holy Ghost. He stepped forward and she echoed it by stepping backwards, and they went through the basic step a few times before she knew she had the hang of it and started to improvise, shaking her hips and leaning forward and back with their steps.

As soon as she had, all bets were off and they were both moving and shaking and twirling around, sometimes barely touching and sometimes close together, all the while their hips were gyrating in a way that made her hope that her mom wasn't watching. For the big finish he twirled her around and before she could even think about being too heavy, lowered her into a dip.

She gasped and clutched at his shoulders until he straightened and put her on her feet, then took her hand and led her back to where Corny stood with the microphone. "That was Sketch and Tracy, demonstrating the mambo with real Latin flavor! Come on over, kids, and tell us what you thought of that dance."

"That was great!" Tracy was even more out of breath now, but she didn't have to fake her smile anymore. "I didn't know the dance well at all, but Sketch is such a great dancer that he made it seem easy and fun!"

Sketch leaned over her shoulder to get closer to the microphone. "Well, Tracy's a dreamboat, isn't she?" The other dancers applauded, with varying degrees of sincerity, and some of the crew joined in – probably because she'd kept on bringing trays of fresh baked goodies for breakfast. "She cooks even better than she dances, but she won't go out with me. Maybe someone should send a telegram telling her she should!"

Tracy's face now matched the tomato red skirt she wore, and she slapped him on the arm. "Don't be silly."

"Silly's what Sketch does best, Miss Tracy, but we only take telegrams for dances." Corny turned to flash his best smile directly at the camera. "So keep those requests coming, and we'll be right back for more of the Corny Collins Show, right after these messages from our great sponsors!"

The instant the camera light blinked off to show they were off the air, Corny's smile dropped as he turned to Sketch. "This is not a dating program. Make time on your own time, which you'll have more of with a two day suspension."

"Yes, sir." Sketch's penitent pose fooled no one, but Tracy looked sorry enough for both of them.

Corny turned to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't let this hound dog worry you, Tracy. You looked great out there."

The makeup lady came to powder Corny's nose and Tracy stepped back, grateful to not have gotten in trouble for Sketch's joke. He came up to her, slicking a hand over his hair in his best James Dean style. "So, are you going out with me, or do I need to go home and cry over my broken heart?"

"I'll be washing my hair," she said flirtatiously. At first she'd thought he was playing a joke and had been really hurt, but then she noticed that he did this with all the girls. He was so goofy and totally not serious that she got into the spirit of it, playing along and having fun.

"Great, we'll take your fresh new do for a spin, then." He raised an eyebrow and she returned the gesture.

Patting her hair, she said, "Are you saying there's something wrong with my hair like it is now?"

"Here, I brought you some water." IQ handed her a paper cup and she smiled at him.

Since he'd made it clear that he only wanted to be friends when they were at her dad's joke shop, she'd wondered if he would start to act differently, like he'd guessed she'd thought about what it would be like to date him. But he was still being really nice, and she was happy to have at least one good friend on the show. "Are we still on for the library after the show? I brought all my new textbooks for you to carry."

"You'll go out with the egghead but not with me?" Sketch mimed being shot through the heart. "Tracy, my love, how could you do this to me?"

"I'm a cruel seductress," she said, striking a pose like Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, with one arm leaning against the set piece behind her and the other stretched out like a ballerina's and emphasizing the way she had tilted her hips. "I make men fall in love with me, leave their wives, and then I heartlessly leave them when I get bored."

IQ was looking at her funny but Sketch played along, falling to his knees in front of her. "Baby, you can seduce me anytime."

She giggled before putting her nose in the air. "No, I'm like Marilyn Monroe now. I'm only interested in intellectuals." She put her hand around IQ's elbow and started walking back to the main area of the set.

"But they're divorced! He'll break your heart!" Sketch followed, still on his knees. Tracy peeked back and giggled, then pointed to where Darla was doing stretches. Sketch promptly changed direction, still on his knees, until he ended up in front of Darla. "Hey, doll, since Tracy broke my heart, will you take this wounded man to your bosom and give me comfort?"

She rolled her eyes, but Tracy missed what she said as Link strolled up to where she and IQ were standing, Amber conspicuously absent. "Hey, any chance I can get in on the tutoring? I've been having some problems keeping up lately, and Tracy said I could come if it was okay with you."

IQ agreed, although he sounded a little grumpy. Tracy resolved to make him something extra special to make up for the trouble, and started running through her list of recipes mentally. Partly to think of what she could make that would be really spectacular, but also to keep from passing out at the excitement of spending a few hours alone with the two cutest boys on the Council, even if neither of them was interested in her _that_ way. She couldn't wait to tell Penny!


	18. Tutoring

"But how can you subtract a bigger number from a smaller number? It just doesn't work!"

IQ tugged at his hair in frustration at Tracy's despairing wail. "Because it's a negative number," he said for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Here, Tracy, look at it this way." Link passed a sheet of paper over from where he sat on Tracy's other side. It was a number line, with dashes for each number going to five above and below zero. "Okay, say your friend – the one you always eat lunch with--"

"Penny."

"Say that Penny has a nickel, and she wants to buy more lollipops." Tracy nodded as Link pointed to the number five on the line. "But say when she gets to the store, they're out of the kind she normally buys – all they have left is an all day sucker for ten cents."

Tracy shrugged. "I'd give her the nickel out of my allowance."

"Of course you would, because you're such a sweetheart." Link winked and IQ resisted the urge to growl. "But then she'd owe you five cents, right? So, taking ten away from the five cents she originally had, she's down five cents – negative five."

She frowned and traced her finger over the line. "So it's like a line of credit is for a customer? The amount you charged is negative, and then you turn it back to positive when you pay it off?"

"Exactly!" Link smiled at Tracy, but then IQ couldn't help blurting out, "What do you know about lines of credit?"

Shrugging, Tracy said, "My mom runs a laundry business at our house, and since she expects me to take over someday, she's taught me all about it. But we don't offer credit very often, only for long-time customers who can be relied on to remember what they owe and pay it."

Link was making noises like he was impressed, but IQ was trying not to be annoyed. If she knew how to handle business calculations, surely it couldn't be as hard to do basic algebra as she was making it out to be. Why would she play dumb? Even Amber had never pretended not to know something when she actually did. "Okay, since you know about negative numbers, can we get back to quadratic equations?"

"Y-yeah. Sure." Tracy looked a little scared and IQ wished he hadn't snapped at her. It was all Link's fault, anyway. If he hadn't been there, the tutoring session would've ended an hour ago, and right now IQ would be sitting across from Tracy in a booth at the soda fountain. "That's the one with the smiling face, right?"

IQ was drawing a blank as to where faces could possibly be involved in algebra, but once again Link was right there with a comment. "Yeah, I guess the lines kind of do look like a face, don't they?"

Thinking unkind thoughts on the theme of Link understanding the female mind because he was practically a girl himself – certainly much too pretty to be considered a real man – IQ looked at the paper where the FOIL method was outlined. He didn't really think that it looked anything like a face, but he shrugged. "So, you've got x squared, minus seven x, minus 30. Now you need to factor that out..."

At her look of blank incomprehension he trailed off and sighed. "I guess we're all pretty tired. Maybe we should pack it in and try again some other day."

Tracy was smiling for the first time since the textbooks had appeared, and she jammed all the papers and books into her satchel while bouncing out of her seat. "Thank you for the help."

"Do you guys want a ride home?" Link practically had a halo shining over his head to proclaim his total innocence in offering, but IQ wasn't fooled.

"Actually, home isn't that far away - I was just going to walk Tracy back." Which Link knew. IQ narrowed his eyes at the other boy over Tracy's head to try to convey that he was not welcome and should shut up.

It worked no better than it had before, as Link just smirked and said, "Naw, it's no problem! I have to pass by that way anyway."

"So you're going to Amber's house instead of yours?" This time it was IQ's turn to look smug as Link glared. "It's okay, we wouldn't want you to get in trouble with her for being late, especially if she knew there was another girl here."

Tracy, who had been frowning and looking back and forth between them, sighed and spoke up. "I'm going to Penny's. Since that's in the other direction, I can just take the bus. See you later."

As she turned away, Link started, "Wait, I can still--"

"No, it's okay." Tracy smiled sweetly. "IQ is right, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. Thank you both again for the help – I'll see you on Monday."

They watched as she went out of sight, then turned on each other. "Isn't one girl enough for you?" IQ said hotly. "Amber might not be as sweet as Tracy, but she's smart and pretty and deserves some loyalty from the boy she's going steady with."

Defiantly, Link said, "We're not pretending to go steady anymore. I talked to Mrs. Von Tussle, and after the pageant we don't even have to pretend to date."

"So you're just going to use Amber up and then move on to Tracy?" IQ sneered. "You're contemptible."

Link drew himself up to his full height, which didn't quite match IQ's. "It's not like that – and anyway, I don't care what you think. I'm leaving."

"So go. And don't come back – Tracy and I can get through her schoolwork just fine without you butting in." IQ started to gather his books while glaring fiercely.

Snorting, Link said, "Sure you can. That's why you didn't notice that she was feeling scared and stupid because you kept acting like she didn't know anything."

IQ felt his fists bunching up, but Link had turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his stack of books. He thumped the table with a fist and wondered if Link could be right. He'd been so frustrated with trying to explain concepts that came to him as easily as breathing that he hadn't paid a lot of attention to her reactions.

Maybe he could draw out some diagrams and write things out as if for a first grader, and go to her house over the weekend or after a show to go over them. Without Link there, maybe he could keep his patience longer, not to mention be able to ask her to go out for a malted without the third wheel. It was worth a try.


	19. Diner

"Hey, little darling, you deserting me today?" Link pulled up alongside where Tracy was trudging along towards her bus stop. She'd actually have made it today if he hadn't been early.

She looked up and managed such a wan imitation of her normal smile that it was sadder than if she'd kept frowning. "Hi, Link. Sorry, I figured I'd better make sure to catch the bus since I don't have any breakfast for you today."

Setting the car in park, he hopped out to usher her into the car. "Don't be silly, sweetheart. If you feel bad, you can double up next time."

"I don't think so." She was sitting at the very edge of the seat, looking like she was going to jump out of the car at any moment. "My mom and I are on a diet, so unless you want celery, apples, grapefruit, or a hard boiled egg, I can't bring breakfast."

Link shuddered. "I think they eat better in prison."

"It was that or start taking the appetite suppressant that the doctor prescribed, but those pills make me feel strange, like I can't find my rhythm." Tracy shrugged. "It'll just be a week or two before my dad puts his foot down and refuses to buy any more grapefruit. In the meantime, if you just stop the car, I can probably still catch Mr. Callahan."

"Are you saying you don't want my company? I'm hurt, Trace, really hurt." He turned his best puppy dog eyes at her, but instead of laughing or smiling she looked like she was about to cry. Immediately, Link pulled the car over and parked. "What's wrong? Can you talk about it?"

"It... It's nothing." She sniffled, and he took the keys out of the ignition. "Really, it's..."

"Something." Stepping out of the car, he went around and opened her door. "Come on."

She looked around with some alarm. "Where – Link, I don't know where we are! Can you take me to a bus stop at least?"

"We'll get you to school, but first..." He opened the door and ushered her into the diner he'd spotted before she even noticed where they were going. Tugging her along, he brought her to a booth and pushed down on her shoulders until she slid in, then sat down beside her. "Okay, first thing, we order. Then we talk about how you don't trust me to be a decent person, then we eat. _Then_ we'll get you to school."

Tracy was still sniffling, but it was a bit calmer now. "I'm sorry. I should have known you'd be so nice, but my mom is right. We do need to lose a few pounds..."

The waitress approached and gave Link an absolutely filthy look, which he ignored. "We'll have steak and eggs, please. And hash browns, and orange juice."

When Tracy tried to protest, he held up a hand to her and nodded to the waitress. "That'll be all."

It was a watery giggle, but she still giggled. "I was going to ask for pepper, since this shaker is empty."

"Oh."

She smiled a little bit, and it didn't look anywhere near as sickly as her previous efforts. "You'll have to let me pay, so I'll be keeping my end of the deal."

"Last time I checked, I was still the man here," he said firmly. "If you take your wallet out, I'll tackle you to the ground and take it away until I'm sure you won't try to take the check."

Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth made a perfectly round O. It was so cute, he couldn't resist the urge to gently tweak her nose. "You need to learn some etiquette for the nineteen sixties, little darling. It's insulting to the gentleman you're with if you try to pay for his meal."

"I know. I mean... Thank you." Her cheeks were rosy and she was staring down at the table like it held the answers to the next history test. "I'm sorry for all the trouble."

The surly waitress brought their food and plunked it down. "No orange juice. We got Coke or coffee."

"Just water, please," Tracy whispered. Link agreed and the waitress whirled away again.

He was halfway through his eggs before he noticed she'd only taken two bites. "Eat." He ordered. "You were woozy yesterday and almost fell down during the spotlight. If IQ hadn't caught you, you would've been flat on your... er..." Was there a polite way to refer to a girl's ass? If there was, Link didn't know it. Even 'behind' was deemed impolite by his mother.

"Maybe it'd be better if I had," she muttered, although she dutifully forked up another bite of eggs. "Then the stupid telegrams would stop coming in."

Considering one of his planned stops today was at the telegraph office so he could finally get a dance with her instead of watching from the sidelines and being eaten alive with jealousy, this called for a bit of inquiry. "You don't like being the center of attention?"

"Not when it means all the other girls hate me." She scowled and stabbed at her hash browns. "It's been more than a week and I keep getting up to dance, but now the ones who had started being nice to me when Amber wasn't around are getting catty again, and I don't blame them."

"_I_ blame them. It's not your fault that you're popular." Although it was largely due to her natural sweetness, since she was effusive in giving all the credit and lavish praise to the guy she danced with, and was such a responsive partner that the guy always ended up looking like Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire. Not that he could tell her that, since Council members were technically forbidden from sending in telegrams and she might feel honor bound to confess the transgressions to Corny.

She waved a hand and speared a piece of her steak. "It's probably just a fad. The telegrams will stop soon, and then they won't need to feel bad because I'm accidentally hog-- er, taking up the spotlight."

"You're probably right. Although you do _deserve _the spotlight." He gave her the 'charming heartthrob' smile, and she rolled her eyes but looked a little happier. He thought that he'd still go to the telegraph office, but he wouldn't request a dance with her. Instead he'd have IQ too busy dancing to cozy up to Tracy, and Amber clinging to IQ like a barnacle instead of to Link. That way, the field would be clear for Link to spend that time with Tracy uninterrupted. It was an even better plan than the original.

The waitress finally arrived with their water, spilling some as she plunked it down on the table and disappearing before Link could ask for pepper. "You know, I think next time we're going somewhere else."

"Next time?" He couldn't tell if she sounded shy or hopeful, but the cute was a given.

Link resisted the urge to just go ahead and ask her out, but it was hard. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of how she'd look at him as he said, 'Hey, I was pretending to go steady with Amber for publicity when she was the most popular girl on the show, but now I want to dump Amber and go out with you, only for real, and you being the most popular girl now is just a coincidence.' It might be true, but he'd get his face slapped for sure, and it was about 50/50 whether she'd ever speak to him again.

In the end, all he said was, "Of course next time. You said it'd be at least a week, right? And breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It'll set you up to face whatever horrors ended up in your lunch bag."

"Two eggs, some celery, and an apple." She giggled as he shuddered. "It's not that bad. I like to crunch on the celery, and Penny trades me half of her peanut butter sandwich for one of the eggs."

"Sweetheart, if there was any way it wouldn't cause a heap of trouble, I'd take you out for lunch, too. That's just sad." Her smile wobbled a little and he knew he'd said something stupid, so he hurried to change the subject. "Hey, can I get your notes for today from math?"

Flicking a glance at the clock behind the counter, she said, "Sure, although we'd better hurry if we want to get there on time."

"I won't be there." He gestured for the check, and the waitress slammed it on the table. Link reached into his pocket for his wallet and froze. After making his way through all of his pockets, twice, he faced reality: it wasn't there. "Um, Tracy?"

She giggled as she pulled a small purse out of her school bag. "Don't worry, I'll still respect your manhood."

The waitress did a double take, and Link grinned at how Tracy so obviously had no idea there might be more than one meaning to what she had just said. "Come on, doll, let's shake a leg."

After carefully counting out enough for the bill and a tip, Tracy slid out of the booth behind him. They made their way to the car chatting about homework, and he was happy to see that some of her energy and radiant happiness had been restored, even if she'd left half her breakfast on her plate.

In no time, they were at the school and he bypassed the parking lot to drop her off by the front door. "Oh, that's right – do I need to tell the teacher you won't be there?"

He shook his head, imagining the fallout if Tracy innocently blurted out in front of Amber that they'd been spending their mornings together. He really needed to check with Mrs. Von Tussle again about whether she'd told Amber they weren't pretending to go steady anymore, so that he could stop worrying about her causing a scene. "The school already knows I'm not coming in. I've got to go to a doctor's appointment, and then my mom's taking me out for lunch afterwards."

"Gosh, are you okay?" She looked at him with concern. "You look fine to me."

"Thanks," he said with a wink. "No, my mom's just making me go because she's worried that I keep hearing bells all the time."

For some reason that made her eyes go wide, and she slid out of her seat and ran into the school without so much as a goodbye. He shrugged and drove off, glad she hadn't thought to question why he'd go pick her up when he wasn't even going to school that day. There was no way he could have answered that wouldn't have made his feelings a bit too obvious.


	20. White Knight

"Penny!" Tracy burst into the detention room, barely giving Skillet time to get out of the way before she plowed through. "Penny, he hears bells!"

"Oh my God!" Penny leapt up from where she'd been sitting at a desk in the corner and ran to take Tracy's hands, the two of them jumping up and down and squealing. "I told you! I told you he noticed you!"

"You did!" The two dissolved into a series of delighted giggles, oblivious to the strange looks they were getting.

Seaweed made his way over, swaying slightly to the music that was playing. "Hey, Miss Tracy, no hello for me?"

"Hi, Seaweed!" She gave him one of her big smiles and it was all he could do not to laugh at how happy she was. "I think he might like me!"

Having been carefully listening to every conversation the two girls had during detention in the three days since Penny started showing up, he knew who the 'he' in question was without asking. "Didn't I tell you you were going to snatch him right out from under blondie's nose?"

Her smile faded and she sighed. "He's probably hearing them for Amber. The other day, he was going to her house in the evening, and if he's having dinner with her at home, it's pretty serious."

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "How do you know he was going to her house?"

Tracy shrugged. "He and IQ and I were at the library and he offered us a ride home since he was going out that way, so IQ and I wouldn't have to walk home with all our books. IQ mentioned that the only reason for him to be in the neighborhood was to go to Amber's, so I just went to Penny's so I wouldn't have to think about it."

Seaweed's head hurt trying to hold the thought of just how clueless Tracy could be. Any other girl would've been crowing over two guys fighting over who got to take her home, but the idea that boys might be attracted to her obviously hadn't ever made it through the hairspray. "Maybe there was another reason he was going that way."

"Do you think so?" Tracy was starry-eyed, but Seaweed's attention was entirely riveted on Penny, who was looking at him with so much hope and trust that he felt like he hung the moon.

"I sure do," he said, and he couldn't resist doing a twirl and spreading his arms, showing off his moves and his body. Penny's expression didn't waver, and he scolded himself for having thought it might. She was so good and pure that the thought of acting on a physical attraction would never occur to her – but he didn't know what else he had to offer. He wasn't the best student, he wasn't a particularly good person, and all he knew how to do was sing and dance.

But he'd won a whispered thank you from her once, for having helped Tracy reach for her dream, and so maybe that was the key. If he helped Tracy, maybe Penny would notice him, and see something worth looking at twice. "Baby, ain't you noticed how he keeps looking at you all the time?"

"He does?" Tracy was looking at him skeptically, but Penny was nodding enthusiastically, her hair bouncing merrily around her face.

Seaweed grinned. "And every time he looks at you, he keeps licking his lips, like this." Seaweed exaggeratedly licked his chops, much to the amusement of the nearby dancers. "Like he's the big bad wolf and he just wants to eat you all up."

"He could eat me whenever he wanted to, I wouldn't mind." All conversation in the room stopped, as did the small sounds of people moving. Tracy just sat there, innocent and confused as to why everyone was staring at her. Seaweed briefly pondered explaining to her the meaning of what she'd just said, but decided it was probably better not to try.

"How about you don't tell him that just yet? Maybe after you've got his ring on your finger." A couple of the girls chortled, and the dancing started again, although the conversations involved more giggling than they had before.

The bell rang and Tracy shot out of her seat, grabbing her satchel and sprinting for the door. "I have to get him notes from math class – see you later!"

Seaweed hung back, waiting to see what Penny would do. She returned to the desk where her books were, but sat down instead of gathering them. Technically, he should've gone to class and just sat there being black until the teacher kicked him out, but he already knew there wasn't going to be a test today, and what his mama didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He slid into the desk next to hers, already pulled close from where they sat there before.

He'd barely sat down when she said, "Do you really think he likes her?"

"Sugar, I know he does. No man looks at a girl like that without some serious liking going on." Much the way he was currently staring at Penny, despite knowing he'd be ragged about being stuck on a dumb white girl the minute she was gone. Not that Penny was dumb – she just saw the world differently than other people. Some folks might not see that, but he did.

"I just _knew_ that if he ever looked at her, he'd love her. How could you not love Tracy?" She was smiling so brightly that he felt his heart turn over in his chest. Right at the moment he didn't give a damn about Tracy. The changing periods had cleared everyone else out of the room, and he was desperate to come up with something to say that would shift her attention to him, rather than her friend.

Clearing his throat, he reminded himself that he was cool, smooth, and charming, and then proved himself wrong by blurting out, "You're just as lovable as she is, maybe more."

She smiled and popped a fresh lollipop in her mouth, possibly in an attempt to kill him. No, she had no idea, but he still might die as he watched her mouth and thought about big bad wolves and why it was better not to be one, and how he really believed it and wasn't just saying that. "It's really nice of you to say so, but Tracy's... She's so nice, and pretty, and a great dancer, and... Well, she's Tracy."

"You two really are tight, aren't you?" He'd known, but now he was starting to wonder just what had made Penny so devoted.

"We've been best friends since third grade," she said happily. "Tracy saw that this girl was picking on me, and even though they were best friends, she took my side and told Susie off, and never spoke to her again. No one ever picks on me anymore, because Tracy won't let them."

He'd noticed that, actually. Tracy would take all kinds of teasing about herself, but as soon as anyone said anything about Penny, she'd put a stop to it. It hindered his own ability to be a chivalrous defender to the fair maiden, but he was still grateful for it. "I won't let them, either – so how about this period, you let me show you some moves?"

"Oh, I couldn't." She looked at him with wide eyes. "I mean, all of you are so great, I wouldn't want to get in the way while you're practicing."

"Naw, baby, you could never be in the way. Come on." He stood and held his arms open in invitation, not quite daring to initiate physical contact by holding his hand out.

Penny looked around like she was scared, but she stood up and followed him to where there was a space between the window and the desks. He smiled up at her as she stood in front of him, swaying slightly with the slow beat of the song. "Is this right?" she said anxiously, and started to mess up as soon as she'd asked.

"You're doing just fine," he said, and she relaxed a little. She was right that she wasn't the best dancer ever, but he didn't care.

He should've. She was white, she was taller than him, she was skinny, she was shy, she had her head in the clouds half the time, and still he knew she was the one for him, forever. The instant he'd seen her, it was like a big brassy clang as his heart slid into the place it belonged, right in her lily-white hands. He didn't know if she'd felt the same, or if she even noticed, but he had the rest of his life to convince her to take the chance on a boy who would never be a white knight, but would always love her truly.


	21. Dynamites

"Man, I thought I'd never finish with that woman." Nadine hurried into the back room, where a portable television set had been set up in a curtained alcove. "Who's the tubby girl dancing the spotlight with today?"

"Girl, it's even better than that!" Kamilah scooted over on the bench and pointed to the screen. "Today's request was for Miss Bitchy Britches and the brainiac."

Nadine peered at the screen, trying to make out the picture through the veil of static. "They look pretty good together. He's making her look like she might be alive and not one of the dummies in a store window."

Tossing a doughnut at the back of Nadine's head, Shayna called, "Down in front! I wanna see when Bitchy Britches notices where the heartthrob is."

The camera was still focused on the pair dancing something fancy and slow, but then it turned and Nadine could see the heartthrob, totally ignoring the dancing couple in favor of smiling at and talking to the new girl. "Ooooh, she better not get between Bitchy Britches and some moving traffic. Our girl will find herself flat as a pancake under a truck."

"Look out, look out, look out, look out!" sang Kamilah.

Amidst giggles, Shayna added, "You better lock up your man!"

"Tell Miss Ultra Clutch to hold on to her crown!" Nadine started dancing to the tune they were playing with. "Cause she's going to lose it, too!"

"The boys want to rendezvous--" Kamilah frowned, as the line didn't quite fit, but went on with, "Bitchy Britches is so blue!"

"Cause the new girl's in town!" Shayna finished with a flourish, her arms in the air, completely oblivious to the curtains being opened behind her.

With a significant clearing of the throat, Mr. Pinky said, "And if she was waiting for service, she'd die of old age."

"Yes, sir." The three girls scattered to roam the store in search of something to do that would make them appear busy. As he went to turn off the television, Mr. Pinky got a good look at the screen. "Girls!"

Two out of three came back, Nadine having been buttonholed by a customer looking for a girdle that would make her appear to lose three dress sizes. Mr. Pinky jabbed a finger at the screen. "Who's that?"

"Er, Corny Collins?"

Kamilah coughed and nudged Shayna a bit harder than strictly necessary. "The tu-- talented girl with the blonde and black hair is Tracy Turnblad. She's new on the show and really popular."

"She's really pretty hefty, isn't she?" Mr. Pinky was rubbing his chin. "Can you get her phone number?"

Kamilah really dug her fingernails into Shayna's side to stop the other girl from commenting before they could figure out what the old goat wanted with the girl. "We can try, sir."

"Good, good." He smiled hugely, waving his arms in the air. "Can't you just see her on billboards all over the city? We'll start bringing in the younger girls, who'll bring their mothers. Do a lot of kids watch this thing?"

Shayna nodded, despite the feeling that her ribs were bruised. "Almost all of them."

Rubbing his hands together, Mr. Pinky said, "Great, great. I'm going to go call Irv to see if he can put a contract together. You girls keep an eye on the store in between working on that catchy little song of yours."

They waited until he was out of sight to crack up. "Can you imagine Miss Bitchy Britches once she sees those billboards?"

"I swear, she's going to drown in her own tears," Shayna giggled.

"Write that down. Maybe we _could_ make this into a good song."


	22. The Waltz

"And today's telegram, from Miss Holly Light, reads, 'Can Amber and IQ dance the waltz to Moon River? I think they'd look great together.' Well, Holly, let's see what we can do to make that happen for you."

Amber had started smiling as soon as her name was read, but the smile froze when she heard it wasn't going to be Link she was partnered with. IQ stepped slightly in front of her, blocking the camera's view of her face for a moment, and hissed, "Can you at last _try_ to look like you didn't hear the worst news of your life?"

"Of course not," she said, pulling her face back into something that resembled a smile more than a grimace. "It's not like dancing with someone other than my steady makes me out to be fickle or anything."

He put his hand under her elbow and led her solicitously out to the main dance floor. "It's expected, don't worry. No one believes you'd ever let go of Link voluntarily."

That didn't sound quite as nice as IQ normally was, but there was nothing actually wrong with it. She gave a mental shrug as they moved into dance position. His shoulders were much broader than Link's, which made her feel tiny and delicate as her hand rested lightly on one shoulder while he held her other hand firmly.

He leaned forward, just a little, to whisper in her ear. "You remember the steps, right? It'll be just like old times."

"Of course," she said, and felt herself smiling as she remembered when she was first on the show. The boy that was supposed to have been her first partner had broken his leg, but they'd brought in the son of one of the station's accountants. He'd been a little chubby, but so polite that Amber had felt like a princess. They'd practiced together for hours, since her mother wanted to make sure that she didn't make a fool of herself, and he hadn't complained once.

Effortlessly, they glided over the floor and Amber let herself relax back into the old patterns. "Remember that time when we practiced so long that my feet bled?"

"Yes." He didn't sound as if he was enjoying the memories like she was. "Not one of your mother's better moments."

Ignoring the mention of her mother, because she wasn't sure whether or not she needed to defend her, Amber just smiled some more. "You were so sweet, pretending you'd sprained your ankle and then giving me your ice pack. That fat girl is so lucky you like her."

"She has a _name_, you know." His hand tightened around her waist before sending her into a spin. When she'd been pulled back in for a brief moment of full body contact before another spin and a return to the proper position, he said, "What happened to you? You weren't so... So terrible to other people before, but now... It's like the little fairy princess I used to dance with turned into the wicked witch."

Her eyes narrowed and she stepped on his foot deliberately. "Nothing happened." After another turn, she said, "And I don't care what you think. You're just jealous because Link and I fell in love and I didn't want to dance with you anymore."

They swung around and Amber saw for the first time that Link had his head down so he could listen to something the little butterball was saying. She wanted to go over there and rip that girl's skunky hair right out of her head, but IQ's grip tightened and he lowered her into a dip, her body automatically moving with his even though it'd been more than three years since they'd last practiced together.

"Leave her alone, Amber. It's not her fault." He didn't say what, but Amber knew better. Everything was Tracy's fault – Link taking a year to give her his class ring and never saying he loved her, Amber having to work so hard to be able to keep up with the new dances, the way everybody on the show sucked up to her but kept playing nasty pranks, everything, everything that was wrong in Amber's life was Tracy's fault. It was only because of her that Amber wanted to cry.

The music came to an end and Amber smiled for the cameras, and for Corny, and for her mother. She talked chirpily about how nice it was to dance again with her old friend and first partner, but made sure to mention that she much preferred dancing with Link. They went to commercial and Amber stalked towards her man, wrapping her arm through his and glaring down at the interloper. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else right now?"

"Amber--" Link sounded tired, but Amber just fixed him with a glare and he went silent.

The lardbutt gave one of her fake little smiles. "It's okay. I wanted to go tell IQ how great he looked out there. And you looked good, too, Amber."

"Of course I did," she snapped. "I don't need someone who looks like a garbage scow telling me anything about my dancing."

The girl's doughy face got pinched and she nodded before turning away. Amber ignored the slight queasiness she suddenly felt and smiled brightly up at Link. "What did you think, baby? Didn't I look just like a fairy princess?"

"Sure, Amber. A fairy princess." He wasn't looking at her, but Amber still held tight to his arm and told herself fiercely that she believed him.


	23. The Name

Everything in the fic so far has been in chronological order, except for Corny and Maybelle's first meeting, which was five years in the past. This fic is several days after the waltz, and Tracy's had more dances requested since then. Sometime in the near future I'll do an exact timeline, post it on LJ, and link to it in the next chapter uploaded.

Be aware, updates may slow down soon, as the stuff I wrote over winter break is almost all posted, and my professors decided that easing into the semester was just not something they were interested in.

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

"Cornell Carroll Collins, I have got a bone to pick with you!" 

Corny winced as Maybelle sailed into his office. "I never should have let you see my driver's license."

Smugly, she said, "No, you shouldn't, but you did. And I repeat--"

"Please, not the name again. Anything but the name." He pushed back from the desk and shifted his weight. "Would it help if I got on my knees? Just say the word and my new suit will be gladly sacrificed."

"Hush up with your clowning and let me talk," she said, moving to sit at one of the chairs facing his desk. "I seriously have an issue to discuss with you, but first let me show this to you."

He came to sit beside her and took the paper she held out, chuckling as he read the lyrics. "I take it the girls have been watching the show. And aren't Amber's biggest fans."

"You think?" She handed him another sheet. "This is the version they'll actually sing on the show, since I doubt the term 'bitchy britches' would get past the censors."

Studying the new version more closely, he nodded. "It's catchy, but just veiled enough it shouldn't cause any problems. Are you going to have some platters pressed?"

The look she gave him made it clear she wasn't going to be distracted. "Yes. And now for that bone I mentioned... Are you _trying _to make it impossible for the new girl to make friends, or have you just somehow not noticed that all the boys are requesting dances?"

Corny laughed. "I was thinking of buying stock in Western Union. And having a word with the boys about better fake names, since Hugh Jack Koph and I P Freeley aren't fooling anyone."

"Well now I know you ain't stupid, so are you just mean?" She put her hand on her hip and scowled. "Or just so daggone _male_ that you never noticed what happens when one girl gets all the attention and the other girls get left out?"

"I'm very male," he said meekly. "I just thought it'd be nice if everyone saw that a bigger girl could be the popular one every guy was after."

She sighed. "It is, but the other girls are obviously jealous – and that's going to be trouble if they get more jealous of Tracy than they are of Amber."

"But everyone loves Tracy," Corny said with a frown. "The crew's even on her side because sometimes she brings in pastries that she bakes in the morning before the early rehearsals."

Leaning in close enough to take his hand and capture his eyes with hers, she said, "Trust me. If you don't put a stop to this, she's going to find herself with itching powder in her clothes and a dead rat on her makeup table. Girls that age are vicious enough to outsiders without adding in jealousy."

With a squeeze of her hands, he nodded. "I'll stop accepting the boys' telegrams, and have a word with them while I'm giving them the sex talk again tomorrow. There's a new kid starting; one of Link's backup singers. He's coming on to replace Jesse."

"Got rid of him, did you?" Maybelle looked at him approvingly. "Good. Wasn't right the girl should have to go for getting in trouble and the guy that got her that way should stay."

Corny sighed and reluctantly pulled his hands from hers to scrub them over his face. "I don't know if he'll do right by her. I talked to his parents, and hers. They all said thank you for my trouble, and that was it."

"Ain't nothing more you can do," she said, sighing and straightening up. Feeling like they needed a change of subject, she gave him a flirtatious look and said, "So, if I got a request, do I have to ask the nice man at the telegraph office if he can give me a discount for being a poor widow woman?"

Adjusting his tie, he gave her a wink and said, "Miss Stubbs, I can guarantee you never need to involve anyone else to ask me for anything and everything you might desire."

"Anything I desire? Sounds promising." She looked him up and down and licked her lips. "Well... I do have a _desire_ you can help me with – and it's something only you can do."

His eyes gleamed like the blue center of a flame and he shifted forward, ready to pounce. "Fulfilling you completely is my particular specialty."

"Well, then, Mr. Collins," she looked down, miming shyness, and peered up at him through her lashes. "Would you please have little Tracy Turnblad dance a lady's choice in the spotlight tomorrow?"

He blinked, then shook his head ruefully. "There's just no winning with you, is there?"

"Not less'n I let you." She grinned smugly. "I'd better get going and make sure the kids aren't driving Mama Essie nuts. But I'll see you in the morning, and I'll be watching the show tomorrow to see if you really will make my wish come true."

He stood as she did, although with slightly less than his normal impeccable posture. "I don't think I can quite make that happen while we're on the air, at least not without being arrested... But I'll sure have Tracy do a lady's choice. At least that way it'll only be one girl with a jealousy problem, right?"

"I_knew_ you had to be smarter than you look," she said with a teasing wink. "And between you and me, that certain girl could use a lesson in knowing the whole world doesn't belong to her."

He grinned. "Come on, let me walk you to your car. You might need a protection detail if anyone heard you say that."

Raising an eyebrow, she ran her eyes over his slim frame, then looked down at herself. "You keep telling yourself that," she said. "And if we run into trouble, I'll even pretend to be in distress until after you've gotten yourself hurt."

"Just so long as you leave the dried out old dragon ladies and their spawn to me, that'll be just fine."


	24. Sex Ed

First off, I need to do something I should've done a long time ago, and give props to my Hairspray buddies, Seegrim and Nbaeker. This fic would've a-borning if it weren't for their patience and encouragement in reading over every ficlet/chapter I sent them and asking for more. They are super awesome, and deserve credit for making sure this fic happened - and none of the blame for my mistakes. The second thing is that as of right this moment, chapters 25, 28, and 33 are written, and the gaps in between are not. And 33 only takes us partway through the scene at the record store. So, basically, the end of the semi-daily updates is really frickin' nigh. Hopefully y'all can forgive me and still review - I'll try to keep up and I swear there'll be at least one update weekly.

And yes, I'm getting back to Trink. 26 is Link's perspective, and 27 is Tracy's.

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

"All right, the first thing you need to know is that I'm not trying take your mama's place, and each of you should talk to your mama about all this kind of thing if you want details. I'm only telling you as much as I'd be willing for some other woman to tell _my _daughter."

Maybelle looked at the row of upturned faces and sighed. They all looked so well-scrubbed, shiny and innocent and _young_. Old enough to get in trouble, though. This time all the girls were there, except for Velma's. There was too much of a risk that one would tattle. "Okay, let's get this show on the road."

"In between your legs, there's a hole; boys have a stick. They're called a lot of things, but the only one I'll tell you is that yours is a vagina and his is a penis." Ignoring the blank looks, she plowed on. "When a boy gets really excited, he'll..."

There was no delicate way to say it. "His thing will leak and then spurt, and what comes out is what makes a baby grow inside of you."

The hardest part over with, Maybelle sighed a little with the relief and went on. "There's only one way to make sure you don't get pregnant, and that's not to have sex. Only one case where that didn't work, and none of you look all that holy to me."

Most of the girls giggled nervously. "Y'all are young, and you like the boys – and the boys like you right back. And that's fine – there's lots of things you can do with your clothes on that can still feel good. Just remember that you need to keep your underpants where they belong and you can work out the rest on your own."

A hand shot up into the air and Maybelle groaned. "Yes, Tracy?"

"So is it just underpants? I mean, if you touch it, can you get pregnant?" The other girls all leaned forward just the slightest bit.

It always amazed Maybelle just how little these girls knew. No wonder Brenda got pregnant! "The only way you can get pregnant is if his seed ends up inside your body. Anything else won't make you pregnant, but you might get a bad reputation, or get carried away and do more than you intended to."

There were hesitant nods all around, except for Tracy, who was once more waving her hand in the air. Slightly dreading what might be said, Maybelle nodded for the girl to speak.

"What if you put it in your mouth? Would that still be inside of you in terms of getting pregnant?"

"Tracy Turnblad!" She hadn't dreaded it nearly enough. "How do you even know about that kind of thing?"

The girl shrugged. "There was a man who said something about it to Penny once while we were buying candy, but my daddy had a word with him, and he apologized as soon as they took the wires out of his jaw."

Maybelle's hand went to her face to rub at the tension headache suddenly building behind her eyes. Twice before she'd explained the basic facts of life to some of the girls at Corny's request. For this one, he was going to owe her _big_. "It's... It won't get you pregnant. It's not considered something nice girls do, and it might be illegal, I don't know. What I do know is that y'all need to talk to your mamas and to think about what it is you want to do and with who. It's you who'll have to hold your head up past people trying to shame you if the boy you choose to honor with your affections isn't worthy of them, so it's up to you to decide who you trust to do things with."

There were no hands up this time, and Maybelle heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief. "All right, ladies, please do me the courtesy of not telling anyone that I came and talked to you, and I'll do you the courtesy of answering any questions you might have. Just tell Mr. Collins you need to talk to me privately and we'll figure something out."

She smiled and made her escape, ducking behind a curtain to catch her breath. It felt like she'd run for miles rather than just told a few girls a very few bare facts, cloaked in childish language. Her escape was further complicated by almost stumbling into where Corny had the boys gathered. Standing back out of the way, she listened.

"All right, that's it for the mechanics. Now a word about morality." Corny shot a stern look around at the boys in front of him. "I know you're at the age where you think with your peckers, so write it in your boxers if you have to, but remember this: If you get a girl pregnant, you have two choices: you can be a man and marry her, or you can be a bastard and leave her to suffer for your horniness. So, when you think about the girl you're with and how much you want her, spare a thought to whether you also want to spend every morning for the rest of your life eating breakfast with her."

He tossed a foil packet to each boy and Maybelle's eyes went wide. What was he doing, giving out condoms? Like kids needed any help throwing themselves into the world of sex. He started talking again, and it made more sense. "That one's for an emergency, if you get carried away. You only get one, though, because if you're not man enough to go buy them, you're not man enough to need them."

"Last thing." Corny looked around again, his face completely devoid of smiles. "Girls are not going to talk about how big you are. What they're going to talk about the next day is whether you knew what you were doing - which means you need to remember that 'ladies first' doesn't just apply to elevators. The other thing they'll talk about is how you talked about her. If you called a girl who graced you with her body something ugly, you can bet none of the other girls are going to be willing to get within ten feet of you."

"Now get out of here, chuckleheads. And if any of you has any questions, go ask your dad. I've got a show to run." The boys nodded but showed no signs of moving. Corny walked away from the group, passing by Maybelle's not-so-hidden hiding place. "Come to my office?"

They made their way up and sank into the visitor chairs in front of the desk. "Were we ever that young?"

She laughed at his heartrending sigh. "You look like you still are. And you owe me for this. A lot."

"I know I do," he said, dragging himself to his feet. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "I thought we'd need these to start. Can you believe Bix actually asked me how you could tell if she really meant no? It's no! What kind of ambiguity is there in two letters?"

"Well, your newest star asked me if you could get pregnant putting it in your mouth." Maybelle drank her whiskey in a single shot at the memory. "I didn't even know that could happen until I'd been married three years, and even then I couldn't get over how dirty it was."

Corny froze, his glass suspended in the air as he stared at her, his pupils so dilated that the blue was reduced to a thin rim around them. Maybelle felt her own face heat up as a blush crept across his cheeks, and she tossed her glass at him to break the tension.

It hit his chest, as he'd made no movement to catch it, and fell into his lap. That got him to cross his legs hastily and clear his throat. "If you... I mean, would you... Er..."

"Shut up," she snapped, wishing she wasn't so comfortable around him that she'd just tell him anything without paying attention. Maybelle shot to her feet and headed for the door. "I gotta get back to the house, I'll see you later."

"Maybelle!" He was after her in seconds, stopping her before she left. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to be disrespectful. Please don't go away mad."

"I'm not mad." And she wasn't, really, just embarrassed. "It's just been a strange morning. I'll call you later, all right?"

His sky blue eyes were so intense as he stared at her, like he was trying to hypnotize her or memorize her or something. That all of his focus was on her wasn't debatable, and she found that she had to look away before she did or said anything stupid.

As soon as she looked away, he stepped back. "Thank you for talking to the girls. I'll be waiting for your call."

"I'll..." She didn't know what she was going to say, so she clamped down on it and substituted, "Talk to you later. Have a great show, Corny." She hurried out before he could respond, face feeling as hot as if she was standing in front of an oven.

As she got into her car, she wondered if maybe she shouldn't be alone with Corny so much. But, she could control herself. She didn't need to quit being around him, just remind herself of who they were. If she could just remember to look at his skin's color once in a while, they could stay good friends.


	25. Girl Talk

"Hey, sweetie, room for me over here?" Lou Ann didn't wait for an answer, just stepped into the bench seat across from where Tracy and Penny sat in the school cafeteria. "How're you doing, I'm Lou Ann."

Penny took the offered hand gingerly, a bit intimidated by the other girl and her bright lipsticked smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Tracy finished the bite in her mouth and said, "Lou Ann, this is Penny. She's my best friend, and the nicest person in the world!"

Lou Ann gasped and leaned forward, grabbing one of Tracy's hands and one of Penny's. "I got here just in time," she whispered, and Penny felt her eyes open wider as she wondered what could be wrong. Penny hadn't felt this anxious since she'd seen Tracy running down the hallway, yelling her name. Of course, that time turned into something good, because it had been to tell her about getting on the show and ask her to tell Mr. and Mrs. Turnblad. Maybe this would be something good, too.

"With the nicest person in the world here, and Tracy who has to be at least second, you two need someone with a bit of vinegar in the personality around, just to keep the sweetness from suffocating innocent bystanders." Lou Ann smiled brightly and pulled an apple out of her brown paper lunch bag. "Luckily, I fit the bill pretty well."

Penny giggled and bit into her hardboiled egg while Tracy and Lou Ann started talking. It wasn't exactly tasty on its own merits, but Penny enjoyed it. She felt connected with Mrs. Turnblad, because she'd made it and sent it in, with Tracy because they traded until they both ate the same half-peanut butter sandwich, half egg lunch, and with her own mother, because privation was good for the soul, and Mrs. Turnblad's diets were all about privation. Sometimes Penny thought her soul was probably fine without being deprived of anything else, but in this case, it was okay.

Another couple of girls came and sat down, and Penny swallowed her egg and nodded as Tracy introduced her to Noreen and Doreen from the show. Both girls were wearing Tracy wigs, and Penny smiled at them brilliantly as soon as she noticed. She had wanted to get one, but Mr. Turnblad had just given her a hug and said that she was so pretty as herself that she shouldn't cover it up with a nasty old wig. That had made her feel all warm inside, both for Mr. Turnblad being so nice and for Tracy being so great that she was willing to share her family.

The other girls had kept talking while she was wrapped up in her thoughts, but now Tracy was blushing and looking uncomfortable, and so Penny's attention sharpened on what might have caused it. "Oh, you're welcome! My mom never wants to tell me anything, and my dad just runs off into another room if it's even mentioned that I might kiss a boy someday, so it was great to finally have someone that would answer."

Penny nodded, thinking back to all that Tracy had told her about Miss Maybelle's talk that morning. She didn't know when she could ever use the new knowledge, since the only person she'd ever even kissed was Tracy when they'd thought they needed to practice to make sure they knew which way to turn so as not to bump noses. Still, it was good to know. Her thoughts turned to Seaweed, like they often did lately, but he'd never want to be with a white girl, and especially not one like her.

Tracy stood up, putting the rest of her celery back in the bag. "We've got to get to the detention room, but it was nice talking with you."

The other girls looked disappointed, and so Penny added, "You can come too, if you want. Right, Tracy?"

"Of course we can!" Lou Ann popped out of the lunch table bench as quickly as she'd gotten into it. "I can't wait to meet your friend Seaweed – he's the cute one from Negro Day, right? - and see where you learn all your great dance moves."

Penny's heart sunk as she realized that with the vivacious redhead around, she herself would be totally eclipsed. But Tracy deserved to be the most popular girl in school, and having the girls from the Council around her would help that happen.

"Seaweed's spoken for," Tracy said firmly, "but a lot of the boys are cute, and most of the girls are really friendly."

"Oh, honey, Mikey and I've practically been married since we were in diapers. I'm about as taken as taken can be – but flirting's too much fun to give up." Lou Ann grinned wickedly and Penny thought maybe she might not be that bad.

Tracy grinned back. "You should give us lessons. Penny and I don't have any idea what we'd do if a boy ever showed any interest in us."

The twins started giggling, and Lou Ann stopped dead to stare at Tracy. "You mean you don't _know_?"

"Know what?" Tracy asked with a frown, and Penny wished they would've waited until they were at the detention room to talk – at least she would've been able to put her books down and look at Seaweed while they were talking.

Lou Ann rolled her eyes and looked to the heavens, or at least the acoustic tile ceiling. "Three boys panting after her, and at least five waiting to try their luck if they can ever get within ten feet, and she thinks no one's interested. Lord, please help this wandering child recover from her blindness before she walks into traffic."

"Hey!" Penny glared. "Tracy's not blind! She just isn't conceited and so she doesn't know everybody who knows her is going to love her!"

"Unless their last name is Von Tussle," said one of the twins, and they both started laughing. Penny was still angry, but since Tracy was blushing she didn't say anything else, just started walking again to go to the detention room.

Since it was lunchtime, the normal crowd from outside the door was off somewhere eating. Tracy walked right in, calling out greetings and giving and getting hugs as she went. The others hesitated at the door and so Penny said, "It's okay. Everyone's friendly – well, Pearl likes to get to know you a bit first, and the boys are really protective, but as long as you're not here to be a racist, you'll be fine."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." She jumped as Seaweed's voice came from behind her. "Come on in and dance, ladies."

"Hi!" Lou Ann smiled broadly and held a hand out to him. "I'm a big fan, Mr. Stubbs, and may I say you look even more handsome in person than you do on television?"

Seaweed's eyebrows shot up, but he smiled warmly and said, "Why thank you, miss. You look lovely, and please call me Seaweed. Mr. Stubbs usually means I'm in trouble."

Penny was ready to declare eternal hatred for Lou Ann whatever her last name was, but then the redhead turned slightly to include them all in the conversation. "Now, do you know, these poor deprived girls don't know how to flirt? Would you be able to spare some time to help tutor them on how to react to a handsome man, even though you're spoken for?"

He looked _right_ at Penny and said, "Well, my girl hasn't spoken up yet, but I can't think of anything I'd like to do better than flirt with her." The room seemed to spin a little, and Penny had to close her eyes to fight the dizzy feeling that made her feel like she might faint.

"Excellent!" Lou Ann clapped her hands together and said, "Noreen! Doreen!"

The two looked back at her from where they were already dancing, and Lou Ann sighed. "Never mind, we can handle this ourselves. All right, we'll start with Penny, and then work on Tracy later. Stand here, hon. Yes, right next to Seaweed."

Penny's face was burning, but since she was exactly where she wanted to be she stayed still, twirling her lollipop nervously. Tracy perched herself on a desk nearby, and Lou Ann leaned against her. "Pretend the two of you just met. What do you say?"

"Hi," Penny said nervously, shuffling her feet and looking down. She peeked up to see Seaweed smiling at her gently, and her heart fluttered just like it did the first time they met, when she couldn't even say that.

"The batted lashes are good, but you need to say a bit more – and maybe tilt your head a bit, so he thinks about kissing you." Penny whipped around to look at her with wide eyes, but then turned back and obediently tilted her head. "Exactly! Now, say you've been introduced – how do you start a conversation?"

Penny just stared mutely at Seaweed, captivated by how his sweater fit so snugly around his shoulders. Thankfully, Tracy piped up with, "Say something nice about him?"

"Always a good thing," Lou Ann said approvingly. "Penny, say something nice about Seaweed."

There were a million things she could have said, but she thought of what the nicest thing about him was and said, "You're so gentle and kind, I know you're a really good person all the way through and you'd never hurt anybody if you could help it."

His smile turned a little bit sad, and he said, "I don't know if I'm that good, but for you I'll try to be."

"Oh, no! It's not like that. You're perfect like you are!" Penny said in a rush, horrified that she might have implied otherwise. Pulling the lollipop out of her mouth so she could speak more clearly, she said, "You're already everything you need to be, you shouldn't change for anyone, least of all me."

The bell rang, ending lunch period, and Penny looked down, feeling a bit ashamed and not even remembering to tilt her head. He'd think she was just some silly girl now. And she was, but she'd wanted him to think of her better than that. This flirting thing was the pits.

"Nice to have met you, Seaweed," Lou Ann said, shaking his hand before she turned to glance between Penny and Tracy and the door.

The two said their goodbyes to Seaweed, and Penny thought that they'd have a minute to talk while Lou Ann waited for the twins to finish talking to Hoo Hoo, but she followed them out. "Little Miss Penny, are you a checkerboard chick? How brave! But I can't blame you, he's really handsome. And a nice boy is a treasure worth guarding."

"What's a--"

"Black and white together," Lou Ann said with a mischievous smile. "And if you two aren't together or about to be, I'll eat my hat."

Penny frowned. "You're not wearing a hat."

"I'd buy one especially for the occasion." Lou Ann laughed. "It was nice meeting you, Penny. See you later, Tracy."

She walked away and Tracy and Penny ducked into the ladies room, nodding politely to the gang of Bad Girls (Penny wasn't sure why they were bad, exactly, but that's what everyone called them, so she guessed maybe it was just a name, or because they smoked in school). Tracy was grinning and she said, "I think Lou Ann's right – he really likes you!"

Penny ignored both the statement, which she didn't dare hope was true, and the tiny pang of sadness that she was losing her friend and said happily, "You're so popular! I always knew you would be!"

"You mean we," said Tracy firmly. "Remember the oath!"

One of the Bad Girls snorted, but Penny held out her pinky and Tracy linked her pinky with it, so the jagged scars matched up from when they'd used a table knife to become blood sisters after seeing it in a western movie. Mrs. Turnblad had almost fainted at seeing all the blood, and Penny's mom had tied her to a chair for four whole hours as punishment, but it had been worth it.

"Off to class, kemo sabes," said the tallest of the Bad Girls, and Tracy and Penny nodded before hurrying off in opposite directions. Penny was almost at her class when she turned around, taking herself off to detention again. Maybe Seaweed could really like her, and maybe if she was around him more, she might get up the nerve to tell him how much she liked _him_.


	26. Lady's Choice

The link to the timeline is now in my bio, if you're curious. The titles of the following stories are also included, so if you're hypersensitive about potential spoilers, there's your warning.

* * *

.o.o.

* * *

Link thought he might go crazy before the day was over. He'd worked up the guts to go say hi to Tracy at lunch, but she'd just said hi and turned around to talk to Lou Ann some more, and then her friend with the lollipop had given him a look that was half anger and half pity and his carefully tended nerve had broken. Then Amber had sat next to him and spoiled his appetite by talking about how her mom had said they needed to come to a party together a week from tomorrow, and when he tuned out to look at Tracy, she was looking back, but so sad that he stood up to go find out what was wrong. 

Tracy stood up too, turning around and leaving in a hurry. He couldn't even go after her, because Amber was stuck to him like glue, and she'd make everything worse. She didn't leave his side for one second, not during classes, not on the bus, and when they got to the studio, she waited for him outside the bathroom. And all the time, Tracy was looking unhappy and not talking much to anyone.

It came time for the solo spotlight and he edged closer to her, because despite Corny's warning, and Tracy's own preference for being out of the spotlight, he'd finally sent a telegram the day before. Well, he'd paid the kid next door to take it down to the telegraph office, and he'd used a name he got out of the phone book, just to make sure it wasn't going to be immediately tossed as fake.

To his consternation, though, Corny wasn't reading that Shawna Rayes of Highlandtown was asking for Link and Tracy to dance to a record of their choice. Instead, what Corny said was, "Mrs. Belle Collins requests that little Tracy Turnblad dance the solo today, and make it a lady's choice. Your wish is my command, Mrs. Collins! Boys, line up over here so Tracy can look you all over before deciding who she wants to dance with today."

Link took his place in the line of boys, hardly daring to breathe. Amber would be insufferable if she chose him. Mrs. Von Tussle was going to be furious whatever happened, but doubly so if he danced with someone other than her daughter. And then there was the image issue, because while he knew Tracy was beautiful, he also knew that Corny had someone go through her mail before she got it to weed out all the people calling her names, and there were a lot of them. It'd change things, once everyone knew he liked her, and he wasn't sure he was completely ready.

Corny led her to the opposite end of the line, and was talking to her about making sure she inspected the merchandise before making her decision. Tracy played along, hamming it up and asking to see Mikey's teeth, and could Sketch turn around so she could see whether he had a limp? Everybody was laughing, and even he smiled through his nerves at how adorable she was. Corny put a hand on her arm and she stopped clowning to walk down the line, smiling and looking at each boy as she passed.

Just in front of IQ she paused, and Link thought his heart would stop. IQ didn't care about popularity, and didn't have any doubts about showing his adoration of Tracy. He was a better person and deserved her more, and Link hated him for it a little. Tracy started walking again and Link's breathing restarted, because he hadn't lost her yet. He still had a chance to show her that he could be a good person, and still retain the popularity he'd worked so hard for. He couldn't afford to throw it away, even for Tracy; there was only another year left before his deal with his dad ran out, and Link would have to give up all thoughts of a singing career if he hadn't progressed beyond local television.

Her steps had slowed down, but she was finally at the end of the line, standing right in front of him. Their eyes met and he felt it all the way down his spine. It wasn't something he could describe – he'd start talking about how sexy she was, how cute, how cheerful, how fierce, how adorable, and he wouldn't be able to stop, but he still wouldn't be able to say why it was that one look from Tracy Turnblad shook his whole world up.

Still standing in front of him, she put her hand to her chin and said, "My, my, such a lot of handsome men! I'm the luckiest girl alive, except I have to choose just one!" Then she winked at the camera, and looked so cute that he had to smile.

She looked at him again, and he could feel his heart racing and his breath becoming harsher as neither of them looked away. She was going to choose him. It would mean the end of trying to sneak around Amber. It would mean facing down anyone who questioned why he would want someone who didn't look like a fashion model. It would probably mean that he'd have to go straight into college after high school, and not go to California or New York to break into the music business. But it would definitely mean he got to hold her hand, and look into her eyes, and that she might like him as much as he liked her. It would mean everything.

"I've made my choice, Corny." She looked away from him, and kept her face turned away so he couldn't catch her eye again. "There's so many great dancers, it was really hard, but..."

She took two steps forward, away from Link, and he fought to put a smile on his face as she laid a hand on someone else's arm. "Us new kids need to look out for each other, so Tommy and I are going to show off what he can do to the Isley Brothers and _Twist and Shout_!"

Corny smiled, just like Link was trying to do. Every week, almost every day, he'd smiled through shin splints and bruised feet and bad moods and now he just couldn't make himself do it. Corny had made his way back to his podium, where an assistant had cued the record, and said, "A great song for a great dancer! Let's all give a hand to Tracy and Tommy!"

The record started and she was dancing, and Link felt Amber walk up beside him. She said something and he looked at her, losing all interest in pretending to smile. She was frowning, too, and whispered, "Can you believe her? She almost picked you! As if she doesn't know you're my-- partner."

He kept his clenched hands in his pockets, not sure who or what he wanted to hit, although Tommy was near the top of the list. Tracy was smiling at her partner, and shaking her tits and her ass and he really, really didn't want to deal with Amber right now. She probably knew that, because she put a hand through his arm and around his waist, plastering herself to his side.

Turning away, Link caught a glimpse of Tracy's face and saw that she was enjoying herself – and barely looking in Tommy's direction. A slight smile crept over his face as he thought that it was only natural she'd try to be nice to the new guy, and maybe she'd just been scared of what Amber would do. He'd talk to Mrs. Von Tussle again, and if she didn't fix everything, it was only ten days until the pageant, and then he'd tell Amber himself that it was over.

At least she hadn't chosen IQ. He still had a chance to make everything work, to get the girl without giving up his dreams. And tomorrow they didn't have morning rehearsal. He'd take Tracy to a new diner he'd found, and maybe find a way to work it into the conversation that she didn't have to be afraid of Amber. He'd protect her from anything the little shrew could do.

* * *

.o.o.

* * *

Just in case it wasn't clear, Tommy is Jesse's replacement who just joined the Council. And Twist and Shout doesn't really fit the same beat pattern as New Girl In Town, but I couldn't resist putting it in. :) 


	27. A Choice Explanation

Tracy looked in the mirror one last time, adjusted the headband atop her restored flip, checked that she had her wallet, and made her way down the stairs. Technically, she could've made breakfast this morning, as her mom had ended their diet spectacularly last night with cheesecake at the restaurant near Mr. Pinky's. But, there still weren't very many groceries in the house, and besides, if she didn't bring breakfast they'd go to a diner again.

Her transistor radio was on and playing something new, and she loved the beat for dancing to; she'd have to find out who it was and buy the 45. She threw in a little mambo hip movement and giggled, wondering what new and outrageous thing Sketch would promise today if she'd agree to go out with him. Lou Ann had said that she should tell him yes sometime, just to see whether he would die of shock. Maybe she would.

"Hey, sweet thing, shake those hips in my direction." She twirled to see Link had pulled up and was cruising along behind her. "Unless you're getting the new guy to give you a ride?"

Laughing, she flipped the radio off and climbed into the car, settling comfortably onto the plush bench seat. "You're the only one who gives me a ride anymore. Mr. Callahan even told my dad I was doing great at catching the school bus, since I didn't need to stop him anymore. I probably should've told him the truth, but he gets all strange about the idea of boys around me."

"Your dad sounds like a fine man," Link said, and he sounded sincere but he had a gleam in his eye that made her shiver deliciously. "You need some protection from all those dogs out there."

Tracy rolled her eyes. "You know, I never had an older brother, but I'm pretty sure that's exactly what one would sound like. Come on, it's not like I really am a seductress; boys just see me as a friend, like you do."

"I wouldn't say that," he said, flicking her a glance before turning a corner.

"Anyway, I didn't bring breakfast, so can we go somewhere?" She desperately wanted to pursue what he'd said, but at the same time, she was afraid she knew what his answer would be, that he didn't see her as a friend but as the sister he'd never had. "I've got some big news to share!"

He smiled. "Of course we will. We're almost there now."

"Great!" She couldn't think of anything else to say, and an awkward silence took over as he drove steadily, only looking at her briefly once in a while.

Until he burst out, "Why didn't you pick me for the dance yesterday? I thought you were going to."

"Well... I thought you wouldn't want me to." She looked down at her hands, which were twisting a loose thread at the bottom of her blouse.

There was a red light, and so he stopped and looked at her. "Why wouldn't I want to? You're fantastic, I mean, a fantastic dancer."

"The light's green." He looked at it and nodded, pulling forward and into a parking lot on the other side of the intersection. She frowned and looked around. "This doesn't look like a restaurant."

Putting the car in park, he said, "It isn't, but I wanted to finish what we were talking about first."

Tracy couldn't understand why it mattered so much, but she sighed and said, "I just thought it might cause you problems... And that if you'd wanted to dance with me, you would've sent a telegram like all the others did."

"You knew about the telegrams?"

He looked a bit shocked, and she shrugged. "Not at first, but Harry Chin seemed like a strange name, and then I asked Lou Ann and Seaweed and they... Well, they laughed, but then they told me that all the telegrams had been from the boys, starting with Sketch getting his mambo."

"Well, for your information, I did send a telegram. I sent two, but Corny didn't read the second one yesterday." Her eyes flew to his to see if he was sincere, but he turned to look down at the steering wheel. "The first one was because you said you didn't want to dance the spotlight, so I made sure someone else was dancing."

"Oh." She blushed and felt all warm inside, because she remembered their conversation from the first time they went to a diner together, and the way he'd talked to her while IQ and Amber danced.

Just as she was getting her hopes up that maybe he cared about her at least a little bit, he started the car moving again. "I guess it doesn't matter. I just thought we were... friends."

"Friends," she echoed, feeling dejected. "Of course we're friends. I wouldn't let some stranger drive me to school."

"Good to know," he said, and he winked at her. "You'll love this place – they make these chocolate chip pancakes and put strawberries and whipped cream on top – it's great!"

"Sounds yummy!" One of the things she loved best about Link, now that she knew him, was that he never made her feel bad about eating anything she wanted to. Not even with a look had he ever shown that he thought she shouldn't eat something sugary or fatty or anything, and in fact he'd practically forced them on her a couple of times, even if he said those cinnamon buns weren't quite as good as hers.

They reached the diner and he ran around to open her car door and help her out. She pretended to be trying to do it herself, but she loved his gentlemanly impulses so much that she went slowly enough that he had plenty of time to get there, even if he hadn't been sprinting. She took the arm he held out to her and they walked into the diner, just like a grown-up couple from the movies.

She let him order for her, because those pancakes really did sound great, and when the waitress had left, Tracy said, "I'll have to make something really great on Monday to try to match this!"

Smiling, he said, "Darling, I'd rather have something homemade by you than from the fanciest restaurant in town. I can't wait for more of those cinnamon rolls, or the ham biscuits, and you're the only one I know who gets the bacon to just the perfect level of crispiness, and that chicken fried steak you brought on a biscuit! I want that. And the cinnamon rolls."

She giggled. "You really like to eat, don't you?"

"I love it. There's nothing like a great breakfast to set you up for the day, and if it's in charming company, even better." He winked as their food arrived, then said, "Didn't I say I liked your dad? Good for him for not buying any more grapefruit."

"Oh, but it wasn't my dad! It's the great news I had to tell you!" He put his fork down, his first bite still on it, and looked at her attentively. "I can't lose too much weight, because I'm the new spokesgirl for Mr. Pinky's Hefty Hideaway!"

"That's great!" He reached across the table to grab her hand, and she would've fainted from the happiness if she wasn't determined not to miss a second of it. "I didn't get to do a commercial until my second year, and that was for pimple cream. You're a star, Tracy Turnblad!"

Her head was swimming, and she thought this might be the most perfect moment ever in the history of the universe. "I don't know if I'll do commercials, since my mom and Mr. Pinky talked about it while they were doing my hair. But they took lots of pictures last night, and my mom said I was going to be on a billboard!"

He smiled and squeezed her hand before pulling it back and picking up his fork again. "As soon as it's up, we'll go have a picnic right in front of it, so everyone else can be jealous of my having breakfast with such a big star."

"More like a hefty one," she muttered as she stabbed a strawberry with her fork.

"Hey." His hand was back over hers and he was looking at her with a look even more sincere than a puppy could manage. "Did I mention the pimple cream? Mr. Pinky's is nothing to be ashamed of – my mom always says she wishes they had her size, because the clothes in the window are so beautiful."

"They are." She smiled and cut off a piece of pancake, popping it into her mouth and moaning a little at how good it tasted. Opening her eyes, she said happily, "And at least I don't have to diet anymore."

"Don't ever diet again," he said, but his voice sounded a little high, like he was choking or something. He cleared his throat and said, "You're just fine the way you are."

"Thanks." It came out as a barely audible whisper, since she was blushing so hard that she had to duck her head down and hope he wouldn't notice. She had to keep reminding herself that he liked Amber, and that he was probably just saying that sort of thing to be nice, because sometimes she started thinking that he might mean it. She was already so deeply in love with him that it was painful to think that, not just because then she'd see him with Amber and know it wasn't real, but because she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to love anyone else half as much.


	28. Spokesgirl

I mentioned there'd start being a wait between updates, yes? This is the last of my pre-written ficlets/scenes. I've got the rest plotted, but school, real life, a renewed fixation for Ugly Betty, etc. have slowed me down. Plus the next chapter is really difficult to get a handle on, but absolutely has to happen. So, delays. Sorry!

* * *

.o.o.o.

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"Come on over, Tracy, we need to have a little chat. Everybody else, keep working on this week's dance." IQ's blood ran cold at Corny's words, as the last two 'little chats' he had with Council members resulted in Brenda and Jesse leaving the show. He was slightly off rhythm as he wondered what could be wrong, but no one noticed since Link kept making mistakes and dropped Amber twice. This went on until they left the office, and everyone could see Tracy was still smiling. 

"Okay, so what we'll do is that after the roll call and the group shot, you'll run backstage, right over here." Corny walked to one side, where a tiny square was partitioned off with curtains and hidden by part of the set. Your dress will be there and you'll have to hurry up and change, because after I'm done talking about what's coming up, that'll be your cue to come join me, with one of the boys serving as your escort – just make sure they take turns. Then we'll just talk for a little bit, and you find something nice to say – I'm sure you won't have any problems, since you're such a sweet thing – and when I take us out to commercial, you go change back into your regular clothes. Sound all right?"

"What if I say something wrong?" she asked timidly.

He smiled gently and gave her a one-armed hug. "I'm sure you'll do fine, but if something goes wrong, we'll fix it. Just don't say anything bad about Mr. Pinky's or Ultra Clutch and you'll do great."

Right then and there, IQ resolved two things. One was that he would station himself right next to the curtains so that no one would tear them down, whether to make fun of her or to leer, and the other was that he'd have his dad get the boxing bag set up again in the basement so he could get some practice at using his fists. If any of the guys said one single word about her doing commercials for a place called Mr. Pinky's Hefty Hideaway, he'd deck him. And if one of the girls did... Well, he'd think of something.

The show started and they went through roll call – she was now in front of Link, but she gave it all the pep in the world even when she was just announcing herself like the rest of them.

He got to the curtained alcove just before she did, and felt awkward until she smiled. "I couldn't have picked a better escort for my first day – you're always so sweet, I can't get nervous if you're right there with me."

"A-any time." He held open the curtain and she dove in, and the sound of zippers and cloth rustling was so distracting he almost didn't notice Sketch sneaking up behind him. "Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?" Tracy said, a bit muffled. She had to be pulling something over her head and, oh God, her skirt was on the floor.

IQ pulled himself together and glared at Sketch, who was laughing silently. "About being nervous. You'll do great, just like Corny said."

She came out dressed in a sparkly pink dress that covered her from neck to knee, but flowed over her so that it highlighted every curve in between. She had a rose in her hair and he couldn't see any more because she grabbed onto his hand to steady herself as she strapped on pink shoes with a little heel and she was _holding his hand_ and the blood was roaring through him so fast that he couldn't see or hear anything, just feel her hand in his.

She let go to put on matching gloves and he could breathe and think again, which meant he was hustling her towards the stage. She paused just at the edge and whispered, "How do I look?"

He couldn't say anything, but Link was standing right next to them and he said what IQ was thinking. "You look even more beautiful than usual, which I didn't think was possible, sweetheart." All right, so IQ wouldn't have had the nerve to add the endearment, but he fully agreed with the sentiment.

"And now here's Miss Tracy Turnblad, here to tell us about her favorite place to shop, Mr. Pinky's Hefty Hideaway! How're you feeling, Miss Tracy?"

"I feel pretty!" She sang it out, like in West Side Story.

"And you look really pretty, doesn't she?" Corny looked around and the Council clapped and smiled, even if some more sullenly than others. Amber in particular looked like she wished she was elsewhere.

"It's all because Mr. Pinky gave me such a great dress for becoming their spokesgirl! Mr. Pinky has so many nice clothes, and the ladies at the shop are _so_ friendly! My mom went with me and they did our makeup and our hair, and they only use Ultra Clutch, because Mr. Pinky only gives his customers the best!" She was talking to Corny instead of the camera, but she looked so enthusiastic that IQ was ready to go give Mr. Pinky money just for making her so happy. "You should've seen my mom, she looked so pretty and glamorous!"

A shadow passed over her face, but she remembered the camera and turned towards it, not decreasing her smile at all. "Us hefty girls can have a really hard time feeling like princesses, but Mr. Pinky's Hefty Hideaway can make it happen, and for a reasonable price."

"That's Mr. Pinky's, 3311 Eastern Avenue – for all you big and beautiful princesses out there. And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors."

The light went off and Corny gave Tracy one of his one-armed hugs. "That was perfect – and great job mentioning Ultra Clutch. You're a natural."

"Thanks!" She beamed at him, then scurried back to change while IQ followed her and stood guard again.

The rest of the show went on as normal, except when Tracy lost the rose she'd left in her hair and Link picked it up for her. Afterwards, IQ got pulled aside by Amber. "I need you to stand guard again. Don't let anyone else hear this, got it?"

Confused, IQ went with her and tensed as he saw she had followed Tracy towards a dark corner of the set. "Amber--"

"Don't worry, lover boy. You can stop me if you think I'm going to hurt your precious princess." Amber stepped forward and grabbed Tracy's arm. "I need to tell you something."

Tracy's normally sunny expression went grim. "What?"

"I don't like you, and you need to stay away from Link, but..." She pinned IQ where he was with a glare, and he noticed that from where she stood, Tracy couldn't see him. "Your mom really did look pretty. Huge, but pretty."

Tracy frowned. "Why are you saying this?"

"My mom..." Amber trailed off and stamped her foot. "Just, your mom didn't deserve to stop feeling like a princess, okay? And if you tell anyone I said this, I'll... I'll do something really terrible."

She stomped past IQ, and he dithered but ultimately followed her. After a few feet she whirled around. "What?"

He shrugged. "That was really nice of you, Amber. You didn't have to do that."

"No, I didn't. And I don't want to talk about it, or hear about it ever again." Her lower lip was pushed out in the way everyone on the show recognized as the sign of Amber in a temper, and he held up his hands in surrender. If she didn't want anyone to know she'd showed a sign of being human, he wouldn't tell. He wasn't sure anyone would believe him anyway.


End file.
